'V'H  " 


ii)i>i'  ' 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 

PRESENTED  BY 

Dana  Borden  Lacy 


C813 
H17v 
c.  2 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


0001 8459035 


This  book  may  be  kept  out  one  month  unless  a  recall 
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i 

4 


Form  No.  A-369 


VERNAL  DUNE 


VERNAL  DUNE 


IN  WHICH  IS  SHOWN 
THE  END  OF  AN  ERA 


BY 

EUGENE  HALL 


NEW  YORK 
THE   NEALE   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

191S 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
The  Neale  Publishing  Company 


r- 

o 


o 


c    2- 


This  book  is  dedicated  to  the  descendants  of  the 
following  ^'  gentlemen  of  ye  ole  schule  "  who  were 
leaders  in  religious,  social,  and  political  circles  of 
North  Carolina  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth 
century;  and  who  furnished  characters  and  data  for 
this  story: 

Colonel  Theophilus  Hunter,  Ealeigh,  N.  C. 

Hon.  William  Hill,  Ealeigh,  K  C. 

Mr.  Dyke  Lindaman,  Ealeigh,  iST.  C. 

Mr.  William  Boylan,  Ealeigh,  N.  C. 

Judge  Duncan  Cameron,  Ealeigh,  N.  C. 

Mr.  Eobert  Cannon,  Ealeigh,  N.  C. 

Judge  Eomulus  Saunders,  Ealeigh,  N.  C. 

Governor  Gabrel  Holmes,  Sampson  County,  N.  C. 

Colonel  William  Greene,  Franklin  County,  N.  C. 

Dr.  Simmons  Baker,  Chapel  Hill,  N".  C. 

Dr.  Charles  F.  Deems,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dr.  John  Edwards,  Virginia. 


"  If  an  existing  generation  of  men  stand  so  woven 
together,  not  less  indissolubly  does  generation  with 
generation.  Hast  thou  ever  meditated  on  that  word 
Tradition  ?  How  we  inherit  not  life  only,  but  all 
the  garniture  and  form  of  life,  and  work  and  speak 
and  even  think  and  feel  as  our  fathers  and  primeval 
grandfathers  from  the  beginning  have  given  it  us." 

Sartoe  Resaetus. 

"  He  commanded  our  fathers,  that  they  should 
make  them  known  to  their  children : 

"  That  the  generations  to  come  might  know  them, 
even  the  children  which  should  be  born ;  who  should 
arise  and  declare  them  to  their  children." 

Psalm  78 :5,  6. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface 11 

Introduction 15 

CHAPTEB 

I     Vernal-Dune  and  Its  Master 27 

II     Aristocrats    and    Plebeians 36 

III  Vernal-Dune   at   Sunrise 43 

IV  The  Honor  and  Dignity  of  the  OflQce  of  Governor 

—  The  General  Assembly  —  Mail  System  — 
Printing  Press  —  Government  of  North  Caro- 
lina —  Education  in  North  Carolina  —  The 
Religion  of  Our  Ancestors  —  A  Happy  Medium 
Between  Superstition  and  Asceticism  —  The 
Presbyterian  Church 47 

V  The  Governor's  Palace  —  A  Levee      ....  55 

VI  The  State  House  —  May  Queen 61 

VII  Festina   Lente 69 

VIII  "Ye  Goode  Olde  Tyme " 73 

IX  Gentlemen  of  Leisure 82 

X  Fox-Hunting 91 

XI  A  Party  in  the  First  Quarter  of  the  Nineteenth 

Century 101 

XII  A  Willing  Captive 110 

XIII  A   Pilgrimage   to   a   Shrine 116 

XIV  Interest  of  the   Cabins   in  the  "Great-House"  126 
XV  Southern  Courtship 134 

XVE     Southern   Society  Now  —Then 140 

XVII     Listening  to  a  Divine  Call 147 

XVIII     William  Jameston  at  Home 153 


CONTEITTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

XIX    A  Grave  Meditation 164 

XX     Advantageous  Points  of  Slavery 171 

XXI     Uncle  Eben  and  Aunt  Liza  Discuss  William's 

Departure 178 

XXII     Jannette  Chasseur  Graduates 185 

XXIII  Mr.  Jameston  Sends  for  the  Doctor     .      .      .      .191 

XXIV  Aunt  Liza  Delivers  the  Contents  of  her  Mind  .   197 
XXV    Mars  Lee's  Anticipation 204 

XXVI    Mr.  Jameston  Goes  to  the  Meeting-House     .      .210 

XXVII     Mr.  Jameston  is  Favorably  Impressed  with  the 

Preachers 219 

XXVIII     "Was  There  Ever  Another  Such  Man?"     .      .  224 

XXIX     Schoolgirls  —  Some   of   Their   Reminiscences     .  233 

XXX     Charcoal  Outlines  of  Facts 239 

XXXI     A    Brief    Record 245 

XXXII     The  Cup  of  the  Holy  Grail 249 

Epilogue 252 


PREFACE 

I  have  neitlier  the  rugged  lines  of  experience  nor 
wisdom's  silver  threads  to  lead  me  far  enough  into 
the  ever  receding  past  to  help  me  reproduce  even  a 
pencil  sketch  of  "  ye  goode  ole  tjme,"  but  bright 
young  eyes  catch  the  retrospective  gleam  from  older 
eyes  and  eager  ears  listen  to  the  echo  from  the  hills 
and  vales  of  "  long  ago." 

There  are  various  methods  of  preserving  the  his- 
tory of  a  people  —  tradition,  wTitten  history,  coins, 
medals,  monuments,  laws,  language,  customs,  cos- 
tumes, and  all  these  things  can  be  defined  with  more 
minut<3ness  in  a  narrative  than  in  a  concise  history. 
An  historical  story  not  confined  to  crude  facts  can 
picture  the  progress  of  past  events,  with  their  effect 
upon  social  and  political  institutions  with  greater 
justice  to  a  country  and  its  people,  and  the  youth 
of  the  present  and  future  generations  will  form  a 
clearer  and  more  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the 
life  of  their  forefathers  than  can  ever  be  learned 
from  bare  chronological  records  of  the  State,  about 
which,  as  generations  pass,  tradition  becomes  too 
misty  and  mythical  for  clear  transmission. 

If  the  youth  of  the  country  are  allowed  to  grow 

up  with  so  meagre  a  knowledge  of  "  ye  ole  tyme," 

11 


1%  PEEFACE 

and  with  such  abundant  sources  of  misinformation 
as  are  furnished  by  an  ignorant  and  prejudiced  for- 
eign element,  there  is  great  danger  that  the  coming 
generation  will  be  led  to  believe  that  the  pioneers  of 
their  State  were  barbarians  whose  chief  occupation 
when  not  contending  with  savages  was  practicing 
cruelties,  learned  from  their  Indian  associations, 
upon  their  slaves. 

These  events  I  have  here  written  I  learned  through 
tradition,  and  from  sources  so  authentic  as  to  make 
them  fixed  facts. 

I  do  not  doubt  there  may  have  been  in  some  sec- 
tions less  wealth,  with  the  loss  of  advantages  inci- 
dent thereto,  but  a  capital  and  its  citizens  should 
serve  as  a  fair  representation  of  a  State.  I  consider 
it  fortunate  that  my  knowledge  is  centered  there  and 
that  I  am  able  to  produce  a  picture  of  Southern  life 
at  that  era.  'Not  only  a  correct  outline  and  natural 
coloring  has  been  transmitted  to  me,  but  I  have  in- 
herited the  shadows  and  high  lights  of  patriotism 
without  which  a  Southern  picture  is  a  blurred  mis- 
representation. 

Everything  that  concerns  mankind  enlists  the  hu- 
man sympathies,  and  the  affairs  of  one  section  of  a 
country  are  interesting  to  the  other  sections,  and 
especially  is  this  the  case  when  the  sections  are  sep- 
arated, not  so  much  by  distant  boundary  lines  or  na- 
tional repulsion  as  by  ignorance  of  the  true  and  pe- 
culiar condition  of  a  neighboring  people. 

Those  who  have  honestly  searched  for  the  "  light 


PEEFACE  13 

of  tiiith  "  will  find  it  here,  and  a  philosophy  teach- 
ing by  example. 

We  will  give  to  our  characters  the  true  tone  of 
mind  and  portray  faithfully  Southern  life,  as  it  was 
in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century:  local 
descriptions  will  be  natural  sketches,  and  every  char- 
acter painted  from  life,  and  every  incident  based 
on  fact. 

As  far  back  as  the  sixth  century  Clothaire  passed 
a  law  that  no  one  should  be  condemned  without  be- 
ing heard;  and  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  in  this  en- 
lightened age  that  all  who  feel  an  interest  in  the 
South  and  those  w^ho  are  biased  through  ignorance 
will  avail  themselves  of  this  opportunity  to  be  in- 
formed. 

There  are  perversive  specialties  resorted  to  by 
some  writers,  and  apparently  encouraged  by  their 
publishers.  These  specialties  are  skepticism,  im- 
morality, and  a  style  of  unjust  criticism  and  ques- 
tionable presentation  of  facts  of  one  part  of  the  coun- 
try to  pander  to  the  prejudices  of  a  more  influential 
section. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  use  any  such  advertising 
m.edium. 

All  who  have  read  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  " —  that 
book  of  conjecture  —  should  read  this  local  history. 
It  handles  in  an  original  and  independent  manner 
man;v  questions  of  interest  at  that  time,  and  which 
fanatics  have  used  to  fire  the  most  deplorable  holo- 
caust of  history. 

LOUISBUBG,  N.  C. 


ixtroductio:n' 

The  friends  of  J^orth  Carolina  will  find  much  of 
interest  in  each  history  bearing  upon  her  early  set- 
tlement, especially  after  sifting  it  of  errors  of  igno- 
rance, the  outcome  of  limited  records,  errors  of  in- 
justice, the  misleading  by  reasoning  from  induction, 
and  errors  of  prejudice,  the  natural  growth  of  false 
representation. 

As  the  general  reader  may  not  have  time  for  so 
thorough  an  analysis,  or  the  youthful  student  so 
patriotic  a  digestion  of  the  unwholesome  statements 
of  some  of  the  histories,  it  will  not  be  amiss  in  the 
beginning  to  call  attention  to  the  historical  base  upon 
which  we  intend  to  rear  our  narrative. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  history  of  the  colonies 
that  part  of  the  South  now  known  as  Virginia,  iSTorth 
Carolina,  and  South  Carolina  was  called  the  "  South- 
ern Colony." 

"  The  long,  broad  rivers  of  the  South,  flowing 
lazily  through  a  wide  base  plane  of  which  furnished 
but  little  safe  anchorage."  ^ 

The  northern  coast  (ISTew  England)  became  more 
thickly  settled.  The  rapid  growth  that  has  since  given 
that  section  a  reputation  for  unprecedented  thrift  was 
not  due  to  its  having  been  settled  by  a  superior  peo- 

1  Thwaites'  "  The  Colonies." 

15 


16  INTKODUCTIOlSr 

pie;  rather,  starting  with  greater  numbers  of  colo- 
nists, a  cold,  bracing  climate,  and  affected  by  its 
environment  generally  —  these  were  circumstances 
conducive  to  prosperity  and  expansion.  Then  too, 
in  the  Southern  colony  the  middle  section  known  as 
^N'orth  Carolina  had  a  most  dangerous  seacoast,  and 
was  naturally  to  be  avoided  as  a  landing  place  for 
ships.  ''  For  a  long  period  of  years  a  prejudice  ex- 
isted against  the  middle  region  as  a  colonizing 
ground."  ^ 

So  it  was  the  outcome  of  these  circumstances  that 
the  ISrorthern  colony  got  the  better  start  of  the  South- 
em  section,  and  that  the  upper  and  lower  sections 
of  the  Southern  colony  —  which  afforded  safer  har- 
bors —  were  inhabited  before  the  middle  region ;  and 
quite  natural  that,  having  sixty  years  the  start,  the 
race  for  progression,  local  prosperity,  and  education 
was  an  unequal  one.  The  sections  colonized  were 
increasing  at  a  ratio  of  double  interest  before  [N^orth 
Carolina  even  existed.  The  harbors  above  and  be- 
low had  brought  in  emigrants  of  varied  characters. 
The  historian  says,  "The  colonists  were  for  the  most 
part  a  thriftless  set,  lacking  the  habit  of  industry 
.  .  .  most  of  them  were  gentlemen,  unused  to  and 
scorning  manual  toil."  ^ 

John  Smith,  who  was  in  control  of  the  Southern 
colony,  compelled  his  people  to  labor,  saying,  "He 
that  will  not  work  shall  not  eat."     He  had  repeatedly 

zThwaites'  "The  Colonies."  ^ Ihid. 


INTRODUCTION  17 

urged  the  j^atentees  of  the  colony  in  London  to  "  cease 
sending  him  gentlemen,  idlers,  and  curious  handi- 
craftsmen, and  instead  of  such  to  ship  carpenters, 
husbandmen-gardeners,  fishermen,  blacksmiths,  ma- 
sons, and  diggers  up  of  trees'  roots."  ^ 

It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  Smith,  who  is  de- 
scribed as  being  "  more  quick  to  magnify  virtue  in 
speech  than  illustrate  it  by  deed,''  was  not  a  pleasant 
ruler,  and  that  some  of  these  gentlemen  placed  them- 
selves without  the  jurisdiction  of  Smith  by  seeking 
the  tranquillity  of  the  middle  section,  which  they 
ma  7  have  found  an  uphill  business  to  boom,  with 
only  Roger  Green  and  the  poor  dissenters  who 
also  had  taken  refuse  within  its  borders.  These 
English  gentlemen  who  had  sailed  with  the  coloniz- 
ing party,  described  as  viewing  the  expedition  in  the 
light  of  a  holiday  excursion,  naturally  did  not  take 
interest  in  the  work  of  planting  a  colony.  They 
probably  disliked  the  familiar  associations  of  the 
ruder  emigrants  and  the  domineering  authority  of  the 
leader.  Having  located  they  resisted  all  interference 
in  their  affairs,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that 
the  dissenters  resisted  the  law  and  religion  that  they 
had  already  tried  to  their  sorrow. 

Thwaites  says  that  "  Englishmen  were  soon  found 
to  be  the  best  colonizers  in  the  world.  An  intelligent 
race,  large,  well  built  and  handsome,  active  in  a  high 
degree,  fond  of  outdoor  life  and  manly  sports.  They 
are  brave  and  enterprising  and  ^^-ill  fight  for  su- 
*  Thwaites'  "The  Colonies." 


18  INTEODUCTIOISr 

premacy,  are  tenacious  of  purpose,  and  carry  with 
them  in  their  migrations  their  ideas,  their  customs, 
and  their  laws.  They  do  not  assimilate  with  other 
races,  in  fact,  there  is  inbred  in  them  a  strong  dislike 
of  foreigners,  and  still  more  of  inferior  races." 

Bancroft  describes  l^orth  Carolina  as  being  in 
many  respects  '^  the  most  singular  community  in 
America.  Many  of  the  residents  had  fled  from  in- 
justice and  persecution  in  other  colonies,  and  in  the 
solitude  of  the  forests  of  ^N'orth  Carolina  had  become 
possessed  of  an  independence  wdiich  scorned  any  con- 
trol but  that  of  the  government  established  by  their 
consent.  They  had  little  use  for  laws,  they  were 
mainly  a  simple-hearted  and  virtuous  race  who  by 
pursuing  the  paths  of  right  gave  no  cause  for  re- 
straint. .  .  .  They  were  a  God-fearing  people  .  .  . 
and  anxious  to  live  in  the  peaceful  enjoyment  of  the 
good  things  God  had  given  them,  and  to  rear  their 
children  in  the  ways  which  they  deemed  conforma- 
ble to  His  w^ill.  .  .  .  Are  there  any  who  doubt  man's 
capacity  for  self-government?  Let  them  study  the 
history  of  ^North  Carolina.  The  inhabitants  were 
restless  and  turbulent  in  their  imperfect  submission 
to  a  government  imposed  upon  them  from  abroad. 
The  administration  of  the  colony  was  firm,  humane, 
and  tranquil  when  left  to  themselves.  Any  govern- 
ment but  their  o'wn  was  oppressive." 

The  political  needs  of  one  section  cannot  be  justly 
estimated  by  those  of  another.  The  people  of  IN'ew 
England  and  the  southern  colonies  were  too  unlike 


INTRODUCTION  1» 

in  their  nature  and  habits  to  have  been  subjected  to 
the  same  laws.  A  natural  difference  existed  between 
these  extreme  settlements,  independent  of  the  colonists 
themselves.  ''  In  New  England  the  narrowness  of 
the  Atlantic  slope,  the  shortness  of  the  rivers,  the 
severe  climate,  the  hostility  of  the  savages,  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  French,  the  density  of  the  forests, 
and  the  fact  that  each  community  was  an  organized 
religious  congregation  .  .  .  led  to  the  establishment 
of  more  or  less  compact  communities  called  towns." 
(Thwaites.) 

This  facilitated  the  spread  of  industry  as  well  as 
necessitating  a  more  vigilant  watch  over  the  morals 
of  so  mixed  and  crowded  a  communitv.  "  In  the 
southern  colonies  the  country  was  traversed  by  deep, 
broad  river,  highways  leading  far  inland ;  the  cli- 
mate was  genial,  the  savages  proved  comparatively 
friendly,  and  the  introduction  of  slavery  tended  to 
foster  an  aristocratic  class  of  landed  proprietors. 
.  .  -  The  bulk  of  the  people  were  isolated  and  town- 
ship governments  were  impracticable ;  except  for  pro- 
tection from  Indians  there  was  no  necessitv  for 
massing  the  people.  And  on  this  account  there 
seemed  to  have  been  less  necessity  in  North  Carolina, 
for  early  explorers  had  been  charmed  w^ith  the  coun- 
try, which  they  declared  to  be  the  ^^  most  plentiful, 
sweet,  fruitful,  and  wholesome  in  the  world,"  and 
well  treated  by  the  native  people,  "  the  most  gentle, 
loving  and  faithful,  void  of  all  guile  and  treason,  and 


20  '  INTEODUCTIO:^ 

such  as  lived  after  the  manner  of  the  golden  age.'' 
(Amidas  and  Barlow.) 

*^  The  bulk  of  the  whites  doubtless  intended  to 
treat  the  Indian  honorably;  but  the  forest  traders 
were  beyond  the  pale  of  law,  and  news  of  the  details 
of  their  transactions  seldom  reached  the  coast  settle- 
ments. As  a  neighbor,  the  Indian  was  difficult  to 
deal  with  whether  in  the  negotiations  of  treaties  of 
amity  or  in  the  purchase  of  land.  The  struggle  was 
inevitable  —  civilization  against  savagery.  It  was 
in  the  nature  of  things  that  the  weaker  must  give 
way. ' '     (  Thwaites. ) 

^'  It  had  been  the  boast  of  one  of  the  earliest  his- 
torians of  Xorth  Carolina  that  this  colony  was  the 
only  instance  of  a  nation  planted  in  peace  and  lo- 
cated without  bloodshed  of  the  natives.  This  was 
true  at  this  time.  While  Massachusetts,  Virginia, 
and  others  w^ere  laying  the  foundation  of  their  colony 
on  the  bones  of  the  aborigines,  and  cementing  their 
structures  with  blood,  ISTorth  Carolina  was  quietly 
pursuing  her  course  unmolested  by  the  Indians,  and 
respecting  their  rights.  The  Indians  viewed  with 
jealousy  the  increasing  numbers  of  the  whites;  the 
first  blow  was  struck  by  them."     (Thwaites.) 

The  Indian  is  as  difficult  a  subject  to  discuss  justly 
as  he  has  been  to  deal  with.  What  may  have  been 
the  outcome  of  more  patient  and  persistent  friendli- 
ness and  missionary  work  in  his  behalf,  I  know  not. 
The  subject  is  not  a  pleasant  one  to  me,  and  I  am^ 


INTEODUCTIO:Nr  21 

glad  that  era  is  too  remote  to  have  a  place  in  my 
stor}-. 

Thwaites  says,  "  The  turbulent  population  of  North 
Carolina  paid  little  attention  to  religious  matters 
through  the  seventeenth  century.''  She  certainly 
allowed  no  superstitious  bigots  as  Cotton  Mather 
and  his  fanatics  to  infest  her  borders ;  no  witch-burn- 
ing ever  stained  her  records.  Such  missionary  la- 
borers were  not  wanted  in  the  South,  and  history 
states  that  they  were  warned  to  '^  Depart  the  colony 
with  all  convenience."      (Lawson.) 

There  was  no  community  in  which  the  people 
were  happier  or  more  contented  than  this  one.  When 
the  cruelties  of  Berkeley  drove  many  of  the  Vir- 
ginians from  their  province  they  fled  to  North  Caro- 
lina and  were  kindly  received  by  the  people,  who 
treated  Berkeley's  demand  to  surrender  the  refugees 
for  punishment  with  contempt."      (Wheeler.) 

The  Carolinas,  which  had  been  planted  sixty  years 
later  than  Virginia,  were  in  1700  still  weak,  and  it 
was  a  half  century  before  they  became  important. 
In  1764  the  people  of  North  Carolina  had  become 
numerous,  and  attracted  attention.  I  think  when 
one  views  the  history  of  North  Carolina  he  can  but 
wonder  at  her  progress.  It  is  like  the  youngest  of  a 
family  giving  an  unprecedented  example  to  its  elders 
in  the  matter  of  practical  sense,  undaunted  courage, 
public  spirit,  and  executive  ability.  The  youngest 
of  the  colonies,  and  yet  the  nursery  of  every  noble 


22  INTRODUCTION" 

trait  that  Las  since  made  America's  patriots  and 
statesmen!  Dare  call  her  turbulent,  because  she  re- 
sisted unjust  laws  ?  Dare  call  her  indifferent  to 
religion,  when  she  w^as  foster  mother  of  the  Protestant 
faith  in  America  ? 

''  The  Colonial  Assemblies  were  schools  for  the 
cultivation  of  the  spirit  of  independence." 
(Thwaites.) 

The  colonists  had  formed  w^ithin  themselves,  either 
by  royal  instniction,  or  royal  charter  assemblies  so 
exceedingly  resembling  parliament  in  all  their  forms, 
functions  and  powers  that  it  was  impossible  they 
should  not  imbibe  some  opinions  of  a  similar  author- 
ity.  .  .  . 

"  The  chief  interest  of  the  Carolinas  in  the  devel- 
opment of  America  is  the  failure  of  proprietors  to 
stem  or  deflect  the  tide  of  local  government.  No- 
where does  the  innate  determination  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  to  control  his  own  political  destiny  more  strik- 
ingly appear  than  in  the  contentions  of  the  Carolinas 
with  their  English  rulers.  Never  was  the  iniquitous 
policy  of  England  toward  her  colonies  more  strik- 
ingly and  perfectly  illustrated  than  her  treatment  of 
North  Carolina."      (Wheeler.) 

"  The  landed  gentlemen,  bom  aristocrats,  were  in- 
dolent, vain,  haughty,  arrogant  and  sensitive  to  re- 
straint —  a  natural  outgi^owth  of  the  social  condi- 
tion of  the  times ;  but  they  had  great  virtues  as  well 
as  great  faults  .  .  .  and  when  the  crisis  came  a  half- 


IISrTRODUCTIO:^'  23 

century  later  they  were  foremost  in  the  ranks  and 
the  councils  of  the  Revolution."      (Thwaites.) 

In  Virginia,  at  the  beginning,  all  freemen  were 
allowed  to  vote;  but  it  was  afterwards  decided,  in 
1670,  that  the  usual  way  of  "  chuseing  burgesses  by 
votes  of  all  persons  who  having  served  their  time  as 
freemen  of  this  country  was  detrimental  to  the  col- 
onies ;  and  the  principle  was  laid  down  that  a  voice 
in  such  elections  should  be  given  only  to  such  as 
by  their  estates,  real  or  personal,  have  interest 
enough  to  tye  them  to  the  endeavour  of  the  public 
good." 

"  In  the  18th  century  a  freehold  test  obtained  in 
most  if  not  all  of  the  colonies."      (Thwaites.) 

A  later  disregard  of  this  judicious  amendment  has 
given  Southern  politicians  a  higher  opinion  of  the 
political  ability  of  their  forefathers  —  illustrated  by 
modem  politicians  in  the  easy  import  and  export  of 
hand  baggage  in  their  haste  to  have  a  ''  voyce  "  in 
the  elections  of  other  sections  as  their  interests  did 
"  tye  "  them  to  the  real  or  personal  estates  of  other 
citizens,  and  the  ''  endeavour  "  of  their  own  private 
good. 

In  Thwaites'  history  of  the  colonies  he  uses  the 
term  "  poor  white  trash  "  as  though  it  was  a  distinc- 
tive and  legitimate  title  for  a  disreputable  class  of 
people.  He  says  the  "  poor  white  trash,"  which  re- 
mains to-day  a  degrading  influence,  and  "  the  pres- 
ence of  degraded  laborers  made  all  labor  dishonora- 


24:  INTRODUCTIOlSr 

ble,  and  trade  was  held  in  contempt  by  the  country 
gentlemen.'' 

This  is  simply  an  error  of  ignorance  as  to  local 
distinctions.  The  term  "  poor  white  trash  "  origi- 
nated with  the  negro  slaves,  who,  Thwaites  correctly 
states,  "  in  Xorth  Carolina  were  comfortably  housed, 
clothed,  and  fed,  and  indulged  in  many  amusements." 
Being  happy  in  this  servitude,  they  felt  such  great 
respect  and  pride  in  their  masters'  wealth  and  posi- 
tion, that  they  looked  down  upon  the  common  people 
who  had  no  slaves.  This  is  no  new  sentiment,  even  if 
the  master  should  not  be  held  in  veneration.  We 
read  in  Proverbs,  ^^  He  that  is  despised  and  hath  a 
servant  is  better  than  he  that  honoreth  himself  and 
lacketh  bread."  And  though  the  "  gentlemen  "  did 
not  engage  in  labor  or  trade,  they  did  not  scorn  it,  but 
patronized  it  in  a  most  friendly  and  liberal  way. 
The  system  was  too  convenient  and  agreeable  to  be 
frowned  down.  The  tradespeople  were  characterized 
by  thrift  and  contentment ;  the  gentlemen  by  elegant 
leisure  and  refined  culture. 

"  The  upper  class  in  dress,  manners,  and  political 
thought  resembled  the  English  country  gentlemen  of 
their  time.  Here  and  there  among  them  were  men 
of  fair  scholarship,  with  degrees  from  Oxford  and 
Cambridge.  .  .  .  They  were  of  good,  vigorous  Eng- 
lish stock,  especially  those  who  came  after  the  Resto- 
ration, and  in  the  struggle  for  independence  two  gen- 
erations   later    furnished    to    the    patriot    cause    a 


i:n^tkoductio:^  as 

high  class   of  soldiers,   diplomats,    and   statesmen." 
(Thwaites.) 

Feeling  that  mj  historical  base  is  sufficiently  broad 
and  long  for  the  stage  npon  which  our  Southern 
friends  are  to  appear,  I  will  now  raise  the  curtain 
and  permit  them  to  act  and  speak  for  themselves. 

The  Author. 


CHAPTER  I 
Vernal-Ditn'e  xnd  its  Masttir 

"  A  great  plantation,  with  its  galleried  manor-house,  its  rows 
of  negro  quarters,  and  group  of  barns  and  shops,  was  in  a 
large  measure  a  self-sustaining  community." — Thwaites' 
"  Colonies." 

Ax  imposing  white  mansion  gleamed  through  the 
rich  foliage  of  a  beautiful  gTove,  and  was  so  elevated 
that  from  its  windows  the  master  could  see  vast 
plains  of  richest  lowlands  in  cultivation  and  thou- 
sands of  acres  in  most  valuable  woodland.  So  ex- 
tensive was  this  estate,  that  the  most  distant  ranges 
of  forest  growth  took  on  a  misty,  smoky  blue,  finally 
becoming  too  ethereal  to  be  located,  except  in  the 
knowledge  of  those  who  knew  just  where  a  busy  grist- 
mill wheel  Avas  picturesquely  turned  by  an  overflow- 
ing pond,  or  meadow  lands  and  wheatfields  awaited 
the  harv^esting.  The  ruthless  hand  of  Time  and 
^'  progress "  has  since  wrought  many  changes,  for 
the  time  of  which  we  write  was  the  first  quarter  of 
the  last  century. 

An  air  of  general  comfort  pervaded  the  entire 
premises.  The  foxhounds,  resting  from  their  morn- 
ing's sport,  are  sprawled  in  every  kind  of  easy  pos- 

27 


28  VERI^AL  DUNE 

ture  across  footpaths  and  doorsteps,  in  piazza  and 
doorway,  when  peiTaitted  to  do  so;  but  there  exists 
mortal  antipathy  between  maidservant  and  hounds, 
and  they  are,  notwithstanding  their  friendly  ad- 
vances, kept  just  without  the  hospitable  roof. 

The  cabins  in  and  around  the  lot  are  double  and 
comfortable  looking,  with  neat,  well-swept  entrances, 
and  in  most  instances  a  vine  or  thrifty,  bright-colored 
flower  invites  special  attention. 

The  sleek,  round,  good-natured  faces  of  the  little 
darkies  show  that  they  are  well  cared  for.  From  the 
appearance  of  the  colored  adults  there  seems  to  be  a 
great  deal  to  do,  a  sufficient  number  to  do  it,  and 
plenty  of  time  to  do  it  in.  Close  by  is  heard  the 
methodical  swaying  intonation  of  the  washwomen, 
whose  long  meter  camp-meeting  tune  has  no  hurry 
in  it,  and  in  proportion  to  the  length  of  the  note  is 
given  a  prolonged  rub  on  the  washboard  or  especial 
emphasis  in  the  wringing. 

So  in  the  fields  the  undulating  glitter  of  the  hoes 
in  their  rise  and  fall  is  regulated  by  the  song,  and 
it  sways  from  one  part  of  the  field  to  another,  the 
minor  strains  of  one  party  being  caught  and  echoed 
with  a  zest  that  has  a  metallic  ring  in  its  melody. 

There  are  a  great  many  fields  in  cultivation,  and 
a  great  many  "  hands  "  to  work  them,  and  there  need 
be;  a  great  many  are  to  be  fed  and  clothed,  in  which 
is  no  stint ;  there  is  evidently  no  speculation  in  Mars 
Theo,  certainly  an  accumulation,  but  in  some  respects 
of  doubtful  advantage. 


VEE:NrAL  DUNE  29 

Everything  adaptable  to  the  climate  and  soil  is 
grown  on  the  plantation;  luxuriant  pastures  are  alive 
with  hogs,  beeves,  sheep,  while  goats,  chickens,  ducks, 
geese,  turkeys,  and  peafowls  make  the  barnyard  and 
lots  livelv,  and  the  woods  far  and  near  abound  in 
deer  —  a  tal)le  delicacy  that  is  no  rarity.  To  the 
hunting  of  the  deer  is  added  that  of  the  dainty  par- 
tridge and  the  wily  fox,  and  notwithstanding  the  ad- 
jacent creeks  and  ponds  are  adequate  to  fisherman's 
luck  and  picnic  draughts,  wagons  in  season  bring  up 
from  the  coast  barrels  of  fish,  and  oysters,  pickled 
and  in  the  shell,  to  be  deposited  in  the  spacious  cel- 
lar. 

We  have  in  these  features  a  fair  indication  of  the 
solidity  of  the  material  welfare  of  Vernal-Dune,  l^ow 
pass  through  a  beautiful  flower  garden  into  a  high- 
pitched  double  porch  supported  by  large  white  pil- 
lars, and  thence  into  a  broad  hall :  heavy  high-backed 
chairs  set  grandly  against  a  paneled  wainscoting,  a 
mahogany  table  so  highly  polished  that  the  hats  hang- 
ing above  it  are  reflected  therein,  meet  the  eye.  A 
mammoth  clock  rises  from  out  a  distant  comer,  and 
it  would  seem  that  its  stentorian  voice,  echoing 
through  the  hall,  would  make  one  more  solemnly 
cognizant  of  the  flight  of  time.  But  Mars  Theo's 
family  did  not  view  this  lifelike  machine  with  the 
awe  of  a  later  generation,  for  strike  it  ever  so 
loud  or  clear,  they  rise  and  retire  at  their  own  sweet 
will.  The  children  climb  upon  the  high  chairs  to 
better  investigate  the  receding  sea-storm,  emblematic 


30  VERNAL  DUNE 

of  dark  nights,  and  the  advent  of  the  rosy  smiling 
physiognomy  of  the  full  moon. 

The  descendants  of  these  children  in  after  years, 
when  on  a  visit  to  Grandpa,  would  look  askance  at 
the  queer  old  thing  as  they  tip-toed  by,  and  if  it 
happened  to  strike  they  quickened  their  pace  as 
though  expecting  it  to  follow  with  heavy  strides. 

The  floors  are  waxed  and  polished,  the  parlor  to 
such  a  degree  that  the  furniture  is  reflected  as  in  a 
stream  of  a  well-shaded  nook ;  all  of  the  furniture  is 
the  best  in  use  at  this  time,  the  piano  being  among 
the  first  brought  to  the  State,  and  though  the  legs  are 
small,  it  has  a  sufficient  number  supporting  it  to  bear 
any  amount  of  musical  pressure.  The  harp  should 
have  been  one  of  a  thousand  strings  —  it  had  cost 
that  many  dollars.  The  mantelpiece  is  adorned  with 
handsome  silver  candelabra.  The  portrait  of  a  fine- 
looking  old  gentleman  holding  a  pretty  rosy-cheeked, 
bright-eyed  child  on  his  knees,  is  new,  and  its  life- 
like expression  and  natural  coloring  throw  quite  in 
the  shade  the  dark  silhouettes  on  either  side.  Large 
mirrors  framed  in  gilt  molding  of  unique  workman- 
ship hang  between  the  two  windows,  opposite  each 
other;  on  the  table  are  a  number  of  books,  not  ar- 
ranged for  ornament,  but  for  the  convenience  and 
entertainment  of  any  idle  occupant  of  the  room. 
Each  volume  is  bound  quite  plain,  in  leather;  the 
titles  of  some  of  them  are,  '^  The  Invisible  Gentle- 
man," "Fool  of  Quality,''  "Sir  Charles  Grandi- 
son,"    "  Sir   Roland   Ashton,"    and    "  Lady   of   the 


VEKITAL  DUNE  31 

Manor."  Stepping  into  an  adjoining  room  we  find 
in  a  commodious  mahogany  book-case  a  long  row  of 
Addison's  Spectator,  Cyclopsedia  Britannica,  com- 
mentaries, biographies,  Montgomery's  ^'  Creation," 
—  in  fact,  a  liberal  collection  of  good  books. 

There  are  also  several  veiy  creditable  bouquets  in 
water  colors,  and  a  piece  of  tapestry,  the  antiquity 
of  which  may  have  been  the  Arras  trade-mark,  and 
sufficiently  unintelligible  to  the  uncultivated  eye  to 
bespeak  for  it  some  rank  as  a  work  of  art.  Perhaps 
some  aesthetic  ancestor  brought  it  from  his  father- 
land to  be  fostered  with  care  in  this  "  new  country," 
and  speak  of  a  distant  line  of  ancestors,  and  their 
advantages.  If  its  faded,  moth-eaten  threads  were 
delicately  handled  by  an  interested  genealogist  it 
w^ould  unravel  in  a  long  line,  and  lead  him  into  the 
presence  of  virtuosi  whose  patrons  or  compeers  were 
necessarily  among  people  of  wealth  and  culture. 

If  you  would  comprehend  the  breadth  and  extent 
of  the  hospitality  of  a  Southern  gentleman  of  the 
^^  old  school,"  look  into  the  dining-room,  see  the  long 
table,  the  unique  buffet,  wdth  its  array  of  fine  china 
on  its  shelves,  translucent  ware,  barely  tinted  with 
green,  a  carnation  pink  and  bud,  a  cream  honey- 
suckle and  blue  forget-me-not,  tied  with  a  crimson 
bow,  above  which  two  delicately  tinted  butterflies 
hover,  makes  as  dainty  pattern  as  ever  delighted 
aesthetic  housewife.  Beneath  the  shelves  two  brass 
knobs  at  either  end  form  the  key  to  a  secret  board 
which  is  drawn  out  every  day  to  hold  the  dessert. 


32  VERITAL  DUNE 

And  beneath  are  double  doors,  which  give  only  a  faint 
idea  of  the  capacity  they  serve  to  conceal.  The  side- 
board, notwithstanding  that  it  has  a  leg  at  every 
corner  —  and  owing  to  its  quaint  style  of  manufac- 
ture it  has  a  good  number  of  comers  —  is,  figura- 
tively speaking,  groaning  beneath  its  "  weight  of  good 
cheer." 

The  bed  chambers  are  spacious  and  airy,  some- 
times six  windows  in  a  room,  a  pure  southern  breeze 
'swaying  the  light  fringe  of  the  dimity  curtains. 
The  high  tester  bedstead,  the  massive  bureau  with 
its  formidable  claw  feet,  mahogany  tables,  stands, 
and  chiffoniers,  bright  woolen  rugs  placed  here  and 
there,  give  an  air  of  solid  comfort  and  elegance,  in- 
dicating the  mental  and  the  pecuniary  status  of  its 
inmates. 

The  late  Colonel  Chasseur,  Sr.,  when  a  young  man, 
had  taken  an  active  part  in  politics,  having  served 
in  the  provincial  congress,  his  zeal,  patriotism,  and 
popularity  had  also  placed  him  in  comimand  of  a 
regiment.  His  son  Theophilus  had  married  into 
an  influential  family  of  Franklin  County  noted  for 
"  the  courtliness  of  its  sons  and  the  beauty  of  its 
daughters."  He  had  inherited  a  large  estate,  which, 
with  his  wife's  dowry,  necessitated  so  much  of  his  at- 
tention, that,  with  the  social  feature  of  a  man  in  his 
position,  there  was  left  little  time  or  inclination  for 
the  onerous  duties  of  political  life,  and  had  impelled 
him  to  refuse  the  nomination  for  the  Governorship 
of  his   State.     He  was  still  interested  in  politics, 


VEENAL  DUNE  33 

where  a  man  of  means  and  sound  judgment  can  gen- 
erously advance  more  ambitious  and  more  needy  as- 
pirants for  political  honors.  He  was  an  indulgent 
husband  and  father,  a  kind  master,  a  true  friend,  and 
a  generous  neighbor.  He  was  a  Mason  of  high  de- 
gree, and  had  recently  donated  a  city  lot  to  that  fra- 
ternity. 

His  family  consisted  of  wife  and  seven  children. 
Mar\%  the  oldest  daughter,  had  married  Captain 
Douglass,  a  gentleman  of  means,  position,  and  great 
popularity.  They  resided  in  Ealeigh,  and  Mary's 
sweet  charm  of  manner  drew  nearer  the  ties  of  friend- 
ship that  had  gathered  about  her  happy  girlhood.  She 
was  an  elegant  matron,  the  mother  of  four  sprightly 
children.  Theo,  the  first,  namesake  and  pride  of  his 
grandfather;  Tom,  a  big  blue-eyed,  fair-haired 
cherub;  Willie,  the  cute  little  auburn-haired  wag  of 
the  family,  and  the  little  Virginia  made  a  most  inter- 
esting group  of  grandchildren. 

William,  his  only  son,  was  of  patrician  face,  beau- 
tiful in  its  refinement,  and  physique  grand  in  its 
manliness. 

Sarah,  the  third  child,  was  a  handsome  brunette, 
her  rich  olive  complexion  smooth,  clear,  and  tinted 
with  so  warm  a  glow  that  the  soft  black  eyes  are  par- 
ticularly notable. 

Ada,  fairer,  with  dark  blue  eyes  and  brown  hair, 
a  most  symmetrical  figure,  was  very  beautiful  and 
sprightly. 

Jannette,  still  more  delicate  in  form  and  coloring, 


34  VEENAL  DUNE 

with  the  beauty  and  grace  of  her  mother,  was  both 
gentle  and  winning. 

Louise  was  like  her  father  and,  though  only  ten 
years  old,  showed  decidedly  beautiful  and  strong 
traits  of  character,  such  as  generosity,  charity  and 
unselfishness.  Kindness  of  heart,  sincerity,  frank- 
ness, and  sweet  affection  had  already  stamped  the 
child's  character  with  so  gracious  an  individuality 
that  during  her  life  she  drew  to  her  the  hearts  of  all 
classes  and  color.  She  was  as  active  as  a  fawn,  light 
and  airy  in  her  movements  as  a  fairy,  and  the  most 
graceful  dancer  in  her  school.  There  was  nothing 
negative  in  her  character  or  beauty.  She  had  dark 
brown  hair  and  eyes,  with  well  penciled  brows,  and 
a  complexion  and  expression  pronounced  in  its  bright- 
ness. 

Eugenia,  the  youngest  and  the  household  pet,  had 
large  beautiful  brown  eyes,  and  though  the  frailest 
and  most  delicate  of  the  children,  was  possessed  with 
a  spirit  of  life  and  mischief.  She  and  Louise,  with 
the  assistance  of  the  grandchildren,  kept  things  lively 
and  enjoyed  themselves  with  a  zest  that  was  reju- 
venating to  the  older  members  of  the  family.  Rela- 
tives and  friends  always  found  it  agreeable  to  visit 
this  noted  country  seat,  and  it  was  no  unusual  event 
to  see  large  family  carriages  arrive,  with  man-servant 
and  maid,  assured  of  a  welcome  at  Vernal-Dune. 
There  was  room  enough  in  the  stables  for  the  horses, 
room  enough  in  the  cabins,  and  room  enough  in  the 
"  great  house."     And  every  luxury  in  its  season  pours 


VERBAL  DUNE  35 

from  the  Vernal-Dime's  '^  horn  of  plenty "  in  a 
continual  stream.  This  hospitable  country  seat  was 
situated  scarce  a  mile  and  half  from  the  capital 
city,  and  provided  every  style  of  vehicle,  from  a  large 
family  carriage  to  a  "  stick  gig." 

Gentlemen  of  leisure  ^vere  fond  of  lounging  in  its 
cool  piazzas  in  summer  or  around  the  cheerful  fire 
in  winter,  in  intelligent  conversation,  or  music.  If 
predisposed  to  games,  one  or  more  of  the  family 
were  unusually  clever  at  chess  and  backgammon,  the 
whist  table  being  also  convenient. 

Whenever  the  huntsman's  horn  sounded  in  the  early 
morning,  every  hound  that  caught  its  familiar  re- 
verberation dashed  forth  with  zest  as  unabated  at  the 
last  chase  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  season.  ISTor 
were  the  huntsmen  themselves  less  keen  to  the  magic 
of  that  sound,  and  soon  hurrying  feet  and  clatter 
of  hoofs  added  to  the  morning  noises,  and  the  sport 
was  on. 

The  sporting  gentlemen  in  Ealeigh  and  the  adja- 
cent country  seats  considered  the  rest  at  Vernal-Dune 
not  the  least  part  of  the  pleasures  of  the  season. 


CHAPTEE  II 

Aeistoceats  and  Plebeians 

In  one  of  the  large  rooms  on  the  second  floor  of 
Chasseur  mansion  several  young  ladies  were  taking 
their  usual  siesta,  two  reclining  in  reversed  order 
on  the  high  bed  so  as  to  be  in  agreeable  positions 
for  conversation,  another  on  a  lounge  under  the  win- 
dow, too  deeply  absorbed  in  reading  to  notice  the 
others'  monotonous  tones,  while  a  fourth  was  putting 
up  her  abundant  tresses  at  a  quaint  dressing  table. 
Attracted  by  the  clatter  of  galloping  horses,  she 
looked  through  the  window  blinds  saying,  "  Jannette, 
here  comes  Cousin  Henry  and  old  General  Edney." 

'^  Which  Henry?"  asked  Jannette  without  look- 
ing from  her  book. 

"  Both,"  laughed  Ada,  "  for  Henry  Semloh  and 
Old  Peter  Bro^Ti  have  just  come  in  sight." 

^'  Well,  Sister  Ada,  you  go  down.  Sis  Sally  is 
in  the  parlor  —  I  hear  the  harp.  We  will  come 
down  presently." 

"  Well,  don't  wait  to  finish  that  book,  please,  and 

you  girls  get  up  and  dress."     In  passing  she  pulled 

the  pillow  from  under  the  nearest  unsuspecting  head 

and,  throwing  it  at  the  girls,  ran  off  laughing. 

36 


VEENAL  DUJ^E  37 

When  the  horsemen  had  reached  the  gate  as  many 
little  negroes  as  there  were  horses  had  presented 
themselves  promptly  to  take  charge  of  them,  and  an- 
other with  a  handspring  or  two  had  reached  the  gate 
head  up,  in  time  to  swing  it  open.  The  four  gentle- 
men entered  the  porch  where  Colonel  Chasseur  sat 
bidding  them  welcome  with  the  cordial  complacency 
of  a  man  whose  genial  habits,  and  frequency  of  like 
hospitality  rendered  any  formality  useless  and  un- 
expected. 

''  Welcome,  gentlemen,  welcome.  I  have  been 
watching  the  road  for  the  last  half  hour.  W^hat  is 
the  latest  from  the  election  ?  " 

''  That  is  why  we  hurried  out,"  said  Henry  Shot- 
well. 

"  Hear  him ! ''  said  Peter  Brown.  "  By  Granny  ! 
it  must  be  an  overwhelming  majority  indeed,  that 
takes  seven  days  in  the  week  and  fifty- two  weeks  in 
the  year  to  bring  it  all  out.''  There  was  a  general 
laugh. 

^'  Father  has  come  out  by  a  large  majority,"  said 
Semloh  proudly. 

"  Good,  good ! "  exclaimed  the  Colonel.  "  I 
thought  he  would.  He  will  make  a  fine  Governor. 
We  need  just  such  a  man  at  this  time.  Sarah  dear, 
your  Uncle  Gabriel  is  elected." 

"  I  am  certainly  glad,"  said  Sarah,  coming  for- 
ward and  speaking  to  the  gentlemen  who  had  risen 
to  greet  her.  "  I  must  proclaim  the  glad  tidings. 
Cousin  Julia  is  anxious  to  hear." 


3&  VEENAL  DUNE 

Soon  tlie  gratifying  news  was  discussed  in  the  va- 
rious rooms.  Little  Louise  and  Mary  Shotwell 
caught  the  gay  infection  of  pleasant  news  and  danced 
about  in  gTeat  glee. 

''  Of  course,  Julia,  you  will  all  move  to  Ealeigh/' 
said  Sarah. 

''  Yes,  and  it  will  certainly  be  nice  living  so  near 
dear  old  Vernal-Dune ;  yet  the  move  will  not  be  with- 
out regret." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  some  handsome  swain  you 
will  leave  behind/'  replied  Sarah. 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  leave  him  behind !  "  said  Ada. 
"  While  Uncle  Gabriel  is  doing  a  —  sl  —  national  re- 
form you  and  Aunt  Mary  must  turn  your  attention 
to  the  social.  We  want  a  few  younger  and  hand- 
somer men  for  these  times  and  these  ladies.  I  say, 
Mr.  Chairman,  we  need  more." 

Jannette  dropped  her  book  and,  rising  to  a  sitting 
posture,  interrupted  the  merry  speaker: 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  am  aroused  from  my  leth- 
argy." 

"  That  means  lounge,"  whispered  Mary,  nudging 
Louise. 

"  And,"  continued  Jannette,  "  I  am  not  going  to 
have  my  territory  invaded.  The  gentleman  famil- 
iarly known  as  Old  Peter  Brown  and  his  fortune  have 
long  since  been  registered  as  mine  in  this  circle,  so 
I  insist  that  when  the  member  from  Sampson  moves 
that  aiTangements  be  made  for  the  transportation  of 
her  own  admirers." 


VEEISTAL  DUNE  39 

Here  a  little  darky  interrupted  them  by  putting 
her  head  in  the  door. 

"  Mars  Ileni-}^  Shot-ell  say  if  yer  don't  come  down 
he'll  ha'  to  fetch  yer,  caze  of  yer  laffin'." 

"  Can't  I  learn  you  no  manners  ?  "  said  Mam  Vio- 
let, surprising  the  dusky  little  messenger  by  ap- 
proaching from  the  rear  and  burying  her  hand  in  Es- 
ther's woolly  head.  With  amusing  dexterity  their 
relative  positions  were  changed. 

"  How  often  I  tell  you  to  knock  at  white  folkses' 
door  ?  "  giving  her  an  extra  shake  by  way  of  em- 
phasis, as  she  released  her.  "  Now  see  if  yer  got 
sense  nuff  to  fetch  a  pail  of  water  fer  the  back  pas- 
sage, and  fill  the  pitchers,  you  and  Sally  and  Mar- 
gret." 

Having  delivered  herself  of  these  directions  with 
fierce  dignity,  Mam  Violet  entered  the  room  with 
an  armful  of  clean  towels.  She  directed  the  move- 
ments of  two  small  girls  who  were  sent  about  on 
various  errands  during  the  toilets  of  the  young 
ladies. 

Mam  Violet  was  rather  stout,  and  she  never  stood 
up  longer  than  she  was  cuffing  the  ears  of  some  of  her 
ow^n  race  of  fewer  years  and  less  experience.  Now 
she  sat,  with  a  smile  of  perfect  contentment  on  her 
round  face,  her  generous  arms  encircling  Louise,  who 
had  not  outgrown  the  habit  of  sitting  in  Mam  Vio- 
let's lap  or  of  still  being  the  object  of  an  unparalleled 
affection  and  admiration  of  her  old  nurse. 

"  Come  'long,  honey,  I  dun  got  your  clothes  and 


4a  ,  yEENAL  DUNE 

water  all  ready,  for  ^  mammy's  cliile/  don't  never 
keep  nobody  waiting." 

It  was  not  long  before  a  bevy  of  bright  girls  in 
fresb  and  becoming  costumes  joined  tbe  gentlemen  in 
the  parlor.  The  evening  was  spent  in  so  agreeable 
a  manner  the  guest  did  not  leave  until  after  tea,  and 
although  the  meetings  are  frequent,  the  hour  of  part- 
ing comes  too  soon,  for  the  princely  hospitality  of 
Vernal-Dim.e  is  unquestioned. 

Henry  Shotwell  and  Henry  Semloh  were  nephews 
of  Colonel  Chasseur.  The  former  lives  in  Kaleigh. 
Mary  and  Martha,  his  sisters,  were  fond  of  their 
uncle's  family  and  spent  much  of  their  time  with 
them. 

Henry  Semloh  was  visiting  Yemal-Dune  with  his 
sister  Julia,  and  Theo  Chasseur  Semloh,  the  Colonel's 
oldest  namesake,  was  a  popular  young  cadet  of  West 
Point.  His  noble  physique  and  fine  military  bearing 
might  have  foretold  his  patriotic  enthusiasm  for  the 
Southern  cause  and  high  rank  in  the  Civil  War. 
General  Edney  is  a  Revolutionary  soldier,  tall  and 
straight.  A  la  militaire  distinguishes  every  line  of 
his  homely  face  and  every  move  of  his  spare  figure. 

Peter  Bro^^Tl  is  a  wealthy  Scot<3hman,  a  well-made 
man,  who  still  adhered  to  his  "  knickerbockers  "  and 
black  silk  hose.  He  always  wore  a  pure  white  flan- 
nel suit  in  summer  and  heavy  gray  flannel  in  win- 
ter. Many  of  the  gentlemen  had  adopted  long  panta- 
loons, but  all  wore  linen,  very  elaborate  in  fluted 
rufSes  of  most  delicate  texture. 


VERXAL  DUNE  41 

It  was  an  era  and  a  people  ^vhose  time  was  not 
money,  and  they  were  not  equipped  to  run  a  race  with 
the  needy  sons  of  men  for  the  ahnighty  dollar.  They 
had  as  much  as  they  wanted,  and  enjoyed  it  right 
royally.  They  dressed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  and 
fared  sumptuously  every  day. 

The  line  between  the  classes  was  more  rigidly 
drawn  in  this  era  than  in  later  generations,  not  so 
much  owing  to  the  pride  of  our  ancestors  as  to  other 
causes.  Those  who  had  inherited  valuable  estates 
and  had  been  reared  in  affluence  spent  most  of  their 
time  in  pleasure  seeking,  or  followed  such  profes- 
sions as  were  agreeable  to  them ;  it  was  no  break-neck 
speed  for  accumulation  —  not  at  all  parallel  to  what 
was  known  in  after  years  as  the  "  strife  of  life.'' 
The  intellect  of  Southern  aristocracy  found  many 
agreeable  fields  of  operation  in  which  they  might 
make  choice  of  pursuits,  not  one  that  was  to  master 
them  body  and  soul,  but  a  pleasant  hobby  that  was 
often  ridden  so  judiciously  that  it  added  strength 
and  brilliancy  to  ancestral  honors  and  inheritance, 
besides  stamping  the  man  with  a  noble  individuality. 

The  artisans,  mechanics,  and  day  laborers  were  in 
many  instances  worthy  men,  having  been  raised, 
from  necessity,  in  habits  of  industry,  with  a  credita- 
ble ambition  to  improve  their  lot.  They  had  neither 
time  nor  inclination  for  familiar  association  with 
gentlemen  of  leisure.  Between  them  there  were 
minor  differences,  but  none  the  less  intuitively  recog- 
nized by  both  classes.     The  sweat  and  dust  of  the 


42  VERNAL  DUNE 

laborer  in  his  uncouth  habiliments  suited  to  his  oc- 
cupation was  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  elegant  apparel 
of  a  gentleman,  often  distinctive  in  quality,  quan- 
tity, and  coloring.  Those  who  had  been  poor  and 
imcultivated  for  generations  had  no  congenial  taste 
with  those  of  gTcater  advantages;  but  the  kindliest 
feeling  existed  between  these  classes.  The  moneyed 
men  Avere  princely  in  their  generosity,  and  paid  liber- 
ally for  all  services  rendered  them,  besides  lifting 
the  yoke  of  poverty  when  it  pressed  sorely  on  a  fel- 
low-creature's neck. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  the 
chivalrous  Southern  gentleman  would  have  flushed 
with  hot  indignation  had  it  been  intimated  that  a  lady 
of  the  family  should  go  out  to  any  kind  of  service. 
To  be  a  devoted  wife,  a  tender  mother,  gentle  daugh- 
ter, loving  sister,  sympathetic  friend,  generous  neigh- 
bor, and  kind  mistress  was  all  that  was  expected  of 
lovely  woman  at  home ;  in  society  a  model  of  refined 
and  elegant  grace  to  give  healthy  tone  and  dignity 
to  an  atmosphere  in  which  the  embryo  Southern 
woman  was  to  be  nourished.  Even  among  the  poor- 
est classes  it  was  thought  to  be  sufficient  work  for  a 
woman  to  look  after  the  interest  and  comfort  of  her 
husband  and  children.  It  was  considered  the  nat- 
ural position  of  a  woman  to  minister  to  the  needs  of 
the  family  with  such  help  as  she  could  get. 


CHAPTER  III 

Vernal-Dune  at  Suneise 

"The  chambers  of  the  sun  explored, 
Where  tints  of  thousand  hues  are  stored." 

The  Sim  had  just  peeped  above  the  horizon  line, 
and  its  luminous  glance  was  flashed  back  from  glit- 
ter of  dew-spangled  leaf  and  bloom,  and  Vernal- 
Dune  was  scintillating  in  the  glory  of  a  spring  sun- 
rise. Fleecy  clouds,  rose  tinted,  gi'ow  brighter  and 
brighter  as  they  near  the  sun,  while  piling  high  as 
a  nebulous  tiara  of  ruby  and  gold  they  cro^vn  the 
day  god,  and  his  genial  warmth  touches  all  nature 
into  new  life  and  beauty. 

The  blast  from  the  overseer's  horn  set  in  motion 
the  machinery  of  Vernal-Dune,  from  the  great  hum- 
ming mill  down  to  the  gardener's  wheelbarrow;  even 
good  Miss  Barbara  opened  the  dairy  door  and  put 
in  motion  half  dozen  churns,  at  each  of  which  a 
trim  boy  or  girl  in  a  long  white  apron  manipulates 
the  dasher,  but  with  no  great  regularity,  for  when 
Aunt  Judy  came  near  the  dasher  went  up  and  down 
with  incessant  "  slish  slosh !  butter  come !  butter 
come !  "  As  Aunt  Judy  turned  away  the  lazy  slosh- 
up-and-down,  that  occasionally  her  ear  had  caught, 

43 


44  YEEITAL  DUNE 

was  not  owing  to  the  distance  between  them  or  to 
any  acoustic  defect  in  the  atmosphere. 

Now  each  manipulator,  regardless  of  Aunt  Judy, 
came  to  a  dead  halt  as  the  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard. 
A  couple  of  horsemen  galloped  in  sight  and,  stop- 
ping at  the  gate,  a  prolonged  blast  struck  the  air,  its 
shrill  musical  notes  echoing  far  over  the  hills. 

A  young  darkey  shot  out  from  a  distant  stable 
mounted  on  a  fine  bay,  and  bending  over  the  horse 
in  true  jockey  style  comes  "  t'aring  to  the  gret  bus." 

Mars  William  came  forth  equipped  for  the  chase, 
and  from  the  four  comers  of  the  plantation  a  pack 
of  hounds  was  soon  gathered  amid  the  clamor  of 
their  deep  and  peculiarly  mournful  baying.  Greet- 
ings were  exchanged  by  the  gentlemen. 

''  Where  is  Semloh  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  couldn't  get  him  out  of  the  bed,  and  you 
are  late." 

"  Yes,  Bro^vn  here  was  as  hard  to  raise  as  the 
dead." 

"  There  comes  Boyden  and  General  Daniel  now !  " 

"  Hello !     Just  in  time." 
•    "  Dick,  is  Lafayette  all  right  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I'se  been  up  long  fore  day  currying 
with  one  hand  and  listening  wid  tuther." 

"  I  saw  you  come  out  of  the  cabin  ten  minutes 
ago  trying  to  stretch  out  of  your  shirt,"  said  his  mas- 
ter, only  half  repressing  a  smile  as  he  mounted. 

"  You  no  kane  to  be  oneasy.  Mars  William,"  said 


YEEN^AL  DUNE  45 


an  elderly  negro  coming  up,  "  I  allers  tends  'Faytte 
myself,  fust  thing." 

As  the  sportsmen  rode  off,  Uncle  Tom  observed, 
"  You  no  casion  to  lie  to  Mars  William.  He  whack 
down  on  you  ev'ry  time  like  a  hawk  on  a  chicken's 
back,  and  fust  thing  you  know  de  debil  gwine  to 
whack  down  on  you  too." 

"  See  dese  legs,  Uncle  Tom  ?  Wlien  de  debil 
comes  arter  me  I'se  jest  gwine  ter  fly  like  Mars  Wil- 
liam on  'Fayette,"  and  he  struck  out  in  imitation  of 
'Fayette  both  as  to  sound  and  speed,  vaulting  over  the 
fence  without  touching  it. 

When  Dick  was  next  seen  he  was  leaving  the  dairy 
door  with  a  quart  tin  of  milk  in  one  hand  and  a  pone 
of  bread  and  meat  in  the  other.  Sitting  down  on 
the  grass  within  speaking  distance  of  the  churning 
brigade,  he  called  out  in  a  tone  of  humor  peculiar  to 
his  race,  ^^  See  dare,  one  uv  you  lazy  brack  niggers 
come  shoo  de  flies  off  en  me  whilst  I  eats  me  butter- 
milk.    Yhar!  yhar!"  affecting  a  boisterous  laugh. 

"  Bound  fer  yer  big  mouth,"  said  Aunt  Judy. 
"  Don't  you  hear  yer  daddy  calling  you  ?  He  say 
fetch  de  wheelbarrow  long." 

*^  I  ain't  neder,"  said  Dick,  sotto  voce,  then  louder, 
"  Mammy,  Mars  William  say  fer  me  ter  lissen  out, 
and  if  de  hounds  scent  a  deer  fer  me  to  come  a-t'ar- 
ing."  And  without  further  argument  he  shoved  his 
cup  in  the  cabin  window  and  soon  he  and  "  ole  Bet " 
were  in  joyful  pursuit  of  the  hounds. 


461  VEK^AL  DUNE 

Dick  was  one  of  those  irrepressible,  ubiquitous 
little  imps  that  never  failed  to  be  in  at  the  death  or 
climax  to  any  event.  There  was  no  hole  in  or  above 
ground  he  could  not  burrow,  and  no  tree  however  tall 
or  bare  of  limbs  that  could  get  the  slip  on  Dick;  no 
horse,  mule  or  colt  that  Dick  could  not  catch  and 
ride;  no  cow,  however  young  and  wild,  that  Dick 
could  not  milk.  Dick  could  run  faster,  jump  higher, 
dance  funnier,  sing  louder,  and  work  less  than  anyone 
on  the  plantation.  But  he  was  so  good-natured  and 
so  useful  in  many  ways  that  he  was  subject  to  no 
law.  "  Dick'll  ha'  ter  ketch  dat  chicken  " ;  "  Dick'll 
ha'  ter  go  fer  the  doctor  " ;  "  Dick'll  ha'  ter  git  de  pig 
outten  de  field " ;  "  Dick'll  find  de  stray  cow." 
There  was  not  anything  requiring  speed,  cunning, 
activity,  ingenuity,  smacked  of  recreation  or  dissipa- 
tion, but  Dick  slipped  into  it  by  common  consent 
and  to  his  own  satisfaction.  His  idea  of  religion  was 
as  unorthodox  as  that  of  a  Hindoo,  and  he  was  told 
daily  by  some  old  patriarch  of  the  plantation  "  dat 
the  devil  would  show  git  yo'  les  yo'  mended  yo' 
ways,"  and  it  was  his  simple  faith  in  his  legs  that 
ever  induced  Dick  on  a  dark  night  to  go  from  the 
"  great  house  "  to  his  mammy's  cabin.  Whatever  he 
preferred  doing  was  done  Dick's  way  and  in  Dick's 
own  time,  and  his  watchword  never  failed  to  act  like 
magic,  "  Mars  William  tole  me,"  for  Dick  was  a 
constitutional  liar. 


1 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  Honor  and  Dignity  of  the  Office  of  Gov- 
ernor —  The  General  Assembly  —  ]\Iail  Sys- 
tem —  Printing-  Press  —  Government  of 
l^ORTH  Carolina  —  Education  in  ^orth  Caro- 
lina —  The  Religion  of  Our  Ancestors  —  A 
Happy  Medium  Between  Superstition  and 
Asceticism  —  The  Presbyterian  Church. 

"  The  inauguration  of  Governor  was  a  brilliant  social  event." 
— Thwaites'  "  Colonies." 

The  newly  elected  Governor  Semloh  was  duly  in- 
stalled in  office.  He  had  been  actively  engaged  in 
politics  for  years,  having  served  in  the  General  As- 
sembly ten  years,  nine  of  which  were  spent  in  the 
senate.  This  shoAved  his  fitness  for  State  ministra- 
tion and  his  popularity  with  the  people.  He  was  a 
fair  representative  of  a  true  Southern  gentleman,  and 
his  removal  to  Raleigh  was  an  acquisition  to  that 
place  from  a  social  standpoint  as  well  as  political. 
Governor  Semloh  was  so  much  given  to  hospitality 
that  the  State  salary  was  inadequate  to  meet  the  ex- 
penses, but  that  gave  him  little  concern,  for  his  in- 
come from  his  estate  in  Sampson  County  was  added 

to  his  salary  and  with  princely  liberality  expended 

47 


48  vee:n'al  duj^e 

upon  select  friends,  political  constituents,  and  tlie 
public  generally. 

Owing  to  the  fact  tliat  moneyed  men  had  better 
educational  advantages,  and  that  mental  qualifi- 
cations were  considered  requisite  for  office  of  honor 
and  trust,  only  men  from  this  class  were  nominated 
for  responsible  offices.  In  fact,  certain  votes  were 
confined  to  freeholders,  as  seen  in  the  Introduction 
to  this  work. 

At  this  era  the  Southern  people  thought  little  of 
accumulation,  and  to  be  a  State  officer  and  to  sustain 
the  dignity  of  the  office  was  no  moneymaking  busi- 
ness. The  royal  hospitality  of  our  ancestors  meant 
the  expenditure  of  an  income  within  itself  a  fortune. 
Of  course  the  "  palace  "  took  a  very  active  part  in 
dispensing  its  good  cheer.  The  cordial  handshake 
of  the  popular  statesman,  the  kind  greeting  of  his 
Excellency's  lady,  with  a  glimpse  of  his  charming 
daughters,  was  sufficient  inducement  to  draw  the  curi- 
ous masses  to  every  public  reception;  while  the  en- 
tertainment between  friends  was  daily  an  open  door 
affair.  Wherever  a  party  happened  to  gather,  be 
the  occasion  what  it  may,  there  the  inner  man  was 
ministered  unto. 

The  General  Assembly  was  then  something  more 
than  a  corral  of  donkeys  or  a  puppet  convention,  the 
pulling  of  wires  delegated  to  a  few  tricky  politicians. 
There  was  honor  in  representing  a  section ;  a  member 
was  nominated  according  to  his  meeting  with  the  re- 
quirements of  the  office,  and  not  for  being  an  un- 


YEKIS^AL  DUIiE  49 

scriipuloiis  demagogue ;  nor  by  acclamation,  "because 
lie  alone  would  agree  to  run  for  the  place,  it  would  be 
well  if  such  nominees  were  compelled  to  run  an  in- 
terminable race  with  their  backs  to  the  Capital,  some 
Assemblies  I  wot  of  would  have  acquired  a  notoriety 
on  the  order  of  the  "  Scattered  I^ation."  However, 
all  honor  to  those  worthy  men,  who  for  the  safety  of 
our  stato  and  the  good  of  the  people,  have  from  time 
to  time  since  the  war  allowed  themselves  to  be  penned 
in  such  company,  and  if  their  lusty  kicking  has  not 
cleared  the  field^  it  has  extended  the  area  of  their  own 
jurisdiction. 

At  the  close  of  the  Assembly  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant events  of  the  season  was  the  legislators'  ball. 
Attendance  was  by  invitation,  and  the  best  music 
obtainable  was  furnished,  to  feature  the  session's 
termination.  The  large  dining-room  of  the  hotel 
was  converted  into  a  dancing  hall,  and  the  floor 
waxed  as  thoroughly  as  skill  and  patience  could  ac- 
complish. Here  the  stately  minuet  was  congeed 
through,  to  the  delectable  satisfaction  of  the  beaux 
and  belles  of  1821. 

Although  there  were  post  offices  in  those  days,  let- 
ters were  not  so  common  as  now,  and  postage  stamps 
were  not  yet  in  use.  A  person  wishing  to  engage  in 
epistolary  communications  sent  a  letter,  for  which 
favor  the  recipient  paid  twenty-five  cents.  The  let- 
ters were  ingeniously  folded  and  fastened  by  a  piece 
of  wax,  pressed  by  a  seal  which  was  usually  orna- 
mented with  some  armorial  device  of  foreign  ances- 


50  VEKNAL  DUNE 

tors.  Social  missives  were  more  daintily  closed  by 
the  use  of  a  pretty  colored  wafer,  the  selection  of 
which  might  sometimes  be  a  key  to  the  contents  of 
the  note,  through  the  interpretation  of  color.  The 
seals  frequently  bore  tiny  mottoes,  "  Multum  in 
parvo,''  conveying  a  heart  full  of  sentiment. 

The  time  had  passed  when  Colonial  Governors  or 
titled  proprietors  could  prohibit  the  printing  press,  or 
return  thanks  to  heaven  that  there  was  not  a  print- 
ing press  in  the  Southern  provinces.  There  were 
newspapers  enough  in  Kaleigh  at  this  time  to  assist 
in  pushing  all  spirited  enterprises.  The  press  is  a 
herald  that  should  lead  every  brigade  of  pioneers, 
for  it  blazes  the  way  of  progress  as  effectually  as  does 
the  yeoman's  axe.  The  press  is  a  power.  It  has 
the  ear  of  the  people ;  it  turns  the  windmill  of  public 
opinion  with  a  breath  and  sways  the  masses  with 
the  flourish  of  a  pen.  However,  it  was  not  till  after 
the  close  of  the  war  in  1812  that  our  people  fully 
appreciated  the  adage,  "  The  pen  is  mightier  than 
the  sword."  Since  then  a  great  increase  of  news- 
papers and  enterprise  has  marked  the  progress  of  the 
country. 

Statistics  of  this  period,  when  taken  as  a  whole, 
show  badly  for  schools,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  when  the  other  colonies  had  schools  a  half  cen- 
tury old  North  Carolina  was  not  even  colonized! 
But  the  University  was  established  in  obedience  to 
the  first  Constitution  of  the  State.  There  was, 
at   the    time    of   which    we   write,    another    reason 


VEENAL  DUNE  51 

for  the  indifferent  showing  of  statistics  of  edu- 
cation. In  JSTorth  Carolina  were  two  distinct 
classes  of  society.  The  wealthy  freeholders  were 
aristocrats,  the  other  class  plebeians.  Good  schools 
and  well-paid  teachers  were  provided  for  the  young 
scions  of  aristocracy,  for  it  was  hut  natural  that 
those  who  drank  at  the  fountain  of  knowledge  should 
see  that  their  little  flocks  did  not  thirst,  yet,  on  the 
other  hand  it  was  equally  natural  that  the  others  — 
where  ignorance  was  bliss  —  made  no  effort  to  be 
wise.  So  it  happened,  that  while  many  were  well  edu- 
cated and  accomplished,  more  were  unlearned.  This 
was  not  due  to  any  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  upper 
class  to  keep  the  poorer  class  down, —  for  they  were 
uniformly  liberal  in  the  dispensation  of  material  as- 
sistance and  kind  in  their  manner, —  but  different 
social  conditions  had  in  the  beginning  of  the  colony 
divided  the  classes,  so  each  contentedly  walked 
wherein  their  lines  had  fallen.  There  was  no  legal 
barrier  to  the  acquisition  of  an  education  by  the 
plebeian  youth,  and  often  a  sprightly  boy  or  girl  was 
materially  assisted  to  that  end  by  the  aristocracy. 
However,  the  majority  of  working  people  were  not 
sufficiently  ambitious  to  ^'  bother  "  themselves  about 
advantages  they  knew  nothing  of. 

The  ISTorth  made  greater  progress  in  education, 
that  is,  education  was  more  generally  diffused.  Here 
there  were  no  distinct  lines  of  caste.  The  people 
were  all  white,  all  descendants  of  pretty  much  the 
same  stock,  and  with  about  equal  advantages.     From 


52-  VEKXAL  DUNE 

the  outset  it  was  a  struggle  among  themselves,  an 
inherent  struggle  for  supremacy,  and  upon  the  princi- 
ple of  the  ''  survival  of  the  fittest,"  the  fittest  natu- 
rally forged  to  the  front.  The  outcome  of  this  ri- 
valry of  members  of  the  same  race  one  against  another 
was  the  cause  of  intelligence  and  thrift  for  which  that 
section  became  notable.  This  general  business  war- 
fare increased  their  wealth,  their  industries,  and  their 
educational  facilities. 

Freeing  and  educating  the  negro  had  yet  no  part 
in  the  white  man's  scheme  of  life.  Experience  with 
the  negro  had  sho^^Ti  that  he  could  better  advance  the 
interests  of  the  whites  in  southern  fields,  being 
adapted  by  nature  to  warm  climate.  His  transfer  to 
the  South  was  therefore  but  the  adjustment  of  a  nat- 
ural law.  The  Southern  aristocrats,  in  regard  to  the 
common  people  and  their  work,  believed  that  the 
workers  fulfilled  God's  design  in  labor,  and  saw  that 
they  were  well  paid,  happy,  and  contented.  Each 
class  advanced  the  interest  of  the  other,  yet  neverthe- 
less was  circumscribed  by  social  traditions.  This  to 
a  degree  accounts  for  North  Carolina's  being  behind 
the  other  States  in  the  statistics  of  education,  her 
government  of  aristocracy  being,  in  the  liberal  arts, 
self-centered.  This  is  a  fair  solution  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  given  by  way  of  explanation,  rather  than 
extenuation,  though  if  the  reader  will  adjust  himself 
to  an  atmosphere  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  he  will  see  that  much  may  be  allowed  in 
the  matter  of  extenuation. 


VEKN'AL  DUNE  63 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  religious  fervor  of 
Xew  England  Puritans  had  taken  any  deep  hold  on 
the  people  of  this  section ;  the  enlightened,  luxurious 
livers  of  that  day  were  doing  quite  a  natural  and  not 
unwise  thing  when  they  chose  the  happy  medium  be- 
tween the  superstition  of  the  Dark  Ages  and  the 
asceticism  of  the  Puritans.  They  thought  that  if 
God  allowed  the  old  patriarchs  the  privilege  of  their 
lands  and  their  herds,  their  man-servants  and  maid- 
servants, they  followed  a  safe  example  and  walked 
uprightly  so  long  as  they  had  due  reverence  for  God 
and  just  consideration  for  their  fellow-men.  The 
passage  of  Scripture,  "  He  that  delicately  bringeth 
up  his  servant  from  a  child  shall  have  him  become  his 
son  at  the  length,"  may  have  been  conscientiously 
construed  into  a  divine  admonition  to  be  careful  to 
draw  a  line  between  the  son  and  the  servant. 

I  think  with  great  veneration  and  pride  of  our 
honorable  ancestors  as  God-fearing  and  God-seiwing 
men,  the  Ten  Commandments  as  square  and  compass 
with  which  to  build  a  high  tower  of  Christian  char- 
acter, with  fewer  tools  of  enlightenment,  they  cut 
and  hewed  their  wav  to  the  Eternal  Citv  —  blazins: 
the  way  so  plainly  that  we  may  follow,  and  upon  our 
Spiritual  inheritance  build  with  more  exactness  of 
plan  and  of  perhaps  more  beautiful  and  perfect 
architectural  finish. 

At  this  time  the  Presbyterian  Church  was  the  prin- 
cipal place  of  worship.  Built  of  brick,  it  even  now  oc- 
cupies the  same  site.     It  was  then  furnished  with  a 


54  vee:n'al  dune 

high-boxed  pulpit.  The  pews,  inclosed  with  high 
paneling,  had  doors  opening  in  the  aisle,  while  a  seat 
ran  around  the  other  three  sides,  making  it  necessary 
for  half  of  the  congTegation  to  sit  with  their  backs  to 
the  preacher.  It  was  not  a  one-sided  study  of  fan- 
tastic millinery  only,  by  the  vain  and  thoughtless 
of  the  congregation,  but  a  study  of  physiognomy  as 
well.  Quite  a  imique  arrangement  it  was,  the  chil- 
dren of  the  family  on  the  front  seat  immediately 
under  the  parental  eye,  but  it  was  especially  conven- 
ient for  the  small  boy,  who  might  without  incon- 
venience to  himself  or  the  interference  of  'pater- 
familias stare  at  the  choir  to  his  heart's  content, 
while  General  Daniel  manipulated  the  bow  of  the 
gTeat  bass  violin. 

It  was  at  this  church  that  Governor  Semloh,  Col- 
onel Chasseur,  and  his  neighbor  Boyden  worshiped, 
each  paying  six  hundred  dollars  for  the  use  of  a 
pew.  Others  probably  did  the  same,  though  most  of 
the  pews  were  free. 


CHAPTER  Y 

The  Goveejs"or's  Palace  —  A  Leyeb 

Our  progenitors  were  inspired  with  the  happy 
thought  of  huilcling  a  "  palace  "  for  the  residence  of 
the  Governor.  So  according  to  their  means  and  ways 
of  architecture  a  mansion  was  erected.  Compared 
with  the  palaces  of  this  day  and  generation,  such  a 
dignified  appellation  may  appear  a  misnomer,  but 
remember  it  has  been  dismantled  by  the  ravages  of 
time  and  war.  Having  been  public  property,  no  ivy 
of  sentiment  drapes  its  angular  form ;  it  emits  no  halo 
of  glory,  as  other  battle-scarred  veterans;  it  is  more 
like  an  old  army  horse,  divested  of  its  rich  caparison, 
discharged  from  distinguished  service.  However, 
at  that  time,  without  being  unique  in  style  or  much 
ornamented,  its  associations  had  dignified  it.  It  was 
large  and  solid,  built  of  brick  and  stuccoed  in  imi- 
tation of  granite,  with  a  liberality  of  dimensions  that 
really  lifted  it  above  the  common  order  of  houses, 
and  when  fitted  out  with  new  and  handsome  furniture 
it  was  no  inferior  abode.  Brilliantly  lighted  and 
its  ponderous  doors  throT^^l  open  for  a  "  levee,''  its 
pompous  title  suggested  no  smile.     Let  us  enter  with 

a  party  of  guests.     The  large  parlors  are  thrown  into 

55 


66  VEKI^AL  DU]^E 

one  grand  salon  by  sliding  back  the  great  doors.  The 
windows  are  draped  in  hea\^  crimson  and  black  bro- 
cade, bordered  with  rich  gimp  and  fringe  hung  in 
gTaceful  abundance,  the  shimmering  luster  of  its 
folds  brought  out  in  full  play  by  the  many  lights 
of  the  chandeliers,  while  hundreds  of  pendant  prisms 
catch  and  reflect  in  rainbow  scintillations  the  rich 
coloring  from  cornice  to  floor. 

There  is  no  affectation  of  style,  no  effort  to  im- 
press the  assembly  with  the  pomp  and  ceremony  of 
an  event,  but  a  natural  elegance  of  demeanor  that 
bespoke  for  the  participants  as  having  been  to  the 
manner  born,  and  with  such  associations  that  the 
normal  temperature  of  self-respect  was  neither  raised 
nor  lowered  by  putting  on  or  taking  off  political 
honors. 

After  the  ceremony  of  receiving,  the  company 
gathered  themselves  into  congenial  parties.  Old  poli- 
ticians repaired  to  a  room  where  they  smoked  and 
discussed  the  leading  questions  of  the  day,  while 
others  in  a  remote  recess  took  a  hand  at  cards.  A 
large  room  was  provided  for  the  dancers.  In  those 
days  young  people  were  expected  to  be  young  people, 
and  dancing  was  in  vogue  everywhere  and  by  most 
everybody.  The  good  dames  who  cared  not  to  dance 
looked  on  approvingly  w^hile  their  graceful  charges 
"  tripped  the  light  fantastic  toe,"  and  not  with  any 
compunction  of  conscience.  It  was  considered  merely 
the  effervescence  of  youthful  spirits. 

Sarah  Chasseur  and  her  partner,  having  finished 


VEEi^AL  DUNE  57 

their  dance,  returned  to  the  salon,  where  a  party  of 
distinguished  guests  had  just  entered.  This  beauti- 
ful girl  was  a  happy  medium  between  the  practical 
and  sentimental;  not  one  of  her  score  of  admirers 
had  made  any  impression  upon  her  heart,  neither  was 
she  coldly  indifferent  to  Cupid's  wiles,  but  standing 
at  the  threshold  of  beautiful  womanhood,  happily  ex- 
pectant, without  any  excited  interest  or  impatience 
for  a  step  in  advance.  Her  escort  walked  off  re- 
luctantly, as  Henry  Shot  well  joined  her.  ^^  Cousin 
Sarah,''  he  said  slyly,  '^  what  misnomers  names  often 
are.     I  declare  Mr.  Brown  is  decidedly  blue." 

"  Yes,"  laughed  Sarah,  "  and  here  comes  Mr. 
Strong,  who  everybody  knows  is  quite  weak." 

While  Henry  was  laughing,  Miss  Jane  Semloh  ap- 
proached them,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Strong. 

'^  Miss  Sarah,"  said  that  gentleman,  ''  I  heard 
Brown  slandering  you  just  now." 

"  You  brained  him  on  the  spot,"  exclaimed  Henry, 
wuth  mock  ferocity. 

''  How  could  he  ?  "  asked  Jane,  laughing  archly, 
"  with  nothing  to  operate  with  or  upon  ?  "  feeling 
sure  the  obtuse  gentleman  at  her  side  would  scarcely 
catch  her  meaning. 

''  That  is  so,"  he  innocently  replied ;  "  I  was  not 
prepared  for  action." 

At  this  Henry's  merriment  knew  no  bounds. 

"  What  was  the  slander,  Mr.  Strong  ? "  asked 
Sarah. 

"  He  said  you  were  so  proud  and  hard  to  please 


58  vee:n"al  duke 

that  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  house  you  would 
marry.'' 

^'  I  am  sure,"  answered  Sarah,  smiling,  "  I  cannot 
speak  as  positively  as  that  on  the  subject  myself  — 
I  have  not  seen  them  alL  With  many  I  have  no 
acquaintance.  Mr.  Brown  would  have  spoken  more 
accurately  had  he  said  there  was  one  man  in  the 
house  I  would  not  marry." 

^^  So  you  really  kicked  him.  Cousin  Sarah  ?  That 
accounts  for  his  being  so  blue." 

"  Then,"  said  General  Edney,  who  had  joined  the 
group  in  time  to  get  the  drift  of  the  fun,  "  now  is  a 
good  time  to  look  around  and  make  a  selection. 
Don't  you  think  it  possible  that  one  of  the  assembly 
might  not  sue  in  vain  ? "  placing  his  thumbs  under 
his  arms,  and  spreading  his  large  hands  across  his 
breast,  suggestive  of  great  complacency.  The  ex- 
treme homeliness  and  ludicrous  air  of  the  old  Gen- 
eral caused  his  remarks  to  be  received  with  great 
merriment. 

But  the  thought  thus  presented  to  Sarah  made  her 
involuntarily  cast  her  bright  eyes  over  the  ever-chang- 
ing crowd,  and  they  rested  upon  a  handsome,  finely 
proportioned  stranger,  so  manly  in  bearing  that  he 
would  have  attracted  attention  in  any  assembly.  At 
the  same  time  he  turned  as  if  attracted  by  their 
gayety.  The  poise  of  the  well-shaped  head  crowned 
with  glossy  waves  of  auburn  hair,  the  magnetic 
glance,  was  not  without  effect. 

The  beautiful  glow  on  Sarah's  cheek  deepened, 


VEE:N'AL  DUXE  69 

her  eyes  fell  from  the  stranger  to  the  tall  gaunt  figure 
of  the  old  General  and  she  said  with  a  feeling  of  sin- 
cerity, singularly  sweet,  '^  Possibly  there  is  one  who 
will  not  sue  in  vain." 

This  impression  took  somewhat  the  form  of  a  pre- 
sentiment, when  a  sprightly  young  doctor  who  was 
much  in  love  with  Ada  came  up  to  ask  her  permission 
to  introduce  a  friend. 

Miss  Martha  Shotwell,  who  had  been  the  doctor^s 
partner,  said,  as  he  returned  for  the  stranger,  "  Sarah, 

he  is  a  most  distinguished  la^vyer  from  P ,  a  Mr. 

McKinnon.     Here  he  comes." 

Again  Sarah's  eyes  met  those  of  the  handsome 
stranger,  as  she  gracefully  acknowledged  the  intro- 
duction. 

This  acquaintance  began  with  a  shadow  of  pre- 
sentiment that  fatalists  so  delight  in  following.  It 
may  take  no  definite  form,  no  well-defined  posture; 
it  may  sometimes  be  quite  in  the  background  only 
dimly  remembered,  or  it  may  press  closely  with 
strange  pertinacity;  it  may  be  lost  sight  of  for  a  time 
by  the  relative  adjustment  of  light  and  object,  but  at 
some  unexpected  turn  it  peeps  over  the  shoulder  or 
passes  to  the  front  as  a  reminder  that  if  you  are  not  a 
prisoner,  you  are  under  surveillance.  Xow  if  the 
pursued  are  reputed  not  superstitious,  they  will  walk 
as  perpendicularly  as  possible,  recognizing  it  only  by 
an  air  of  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  " ;  but  if  the 
presentiment  is  agreeable,  we  are  apt  to  play  with  it 
as  a  happy  child  who  is  under  no  physical  or  mental 


60  VEEN^AL  DUNE 

restraint.  We  will  keep  pace  with  its  shadow  or 
make  playful  effort  to  be  rid  of  it,  perhaps  call  a 
positive  halt,  and  then  race  off  only  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  being  followed.  Sometimes  the  race  is 
given  np  in  happy  abandonment,  and  the  sweetest 
flowers  along  life's  pathway  are  gathered  in  its 
shadow.  What  Sarah's  presentiment  will  prove  to 
be  remains  to  be  seen.  Mr.  McKinnon  will  have 
frequent  opportunities  to  personate  the  shadow.  He 
is  a  prominent  lawyer,  attends  the  Wake  Courts,  and 
will  spend  much  time  in  the  "  City  of  Oaks,"  with 
an  eye  to  the  close  proximity  of  Vernal-Dune.  He 
may  prove  an  unwelcome  attendant  or  indifferent 
guard  of  a  maiden's  heart,  or  interesting  the  girl,  be 
led  a  happy  captive,  sweetly  and  innocently  coquetted 
with  along  the  way  until  courtship's  race  is  run,  and 
the  two  are  happy  companions  through  life. 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  State  House  —  May  Quee^t 

"  And  when  the  crisis  came  a  half  century  later,  they  were 
of  the  foremost  in  ranks  and  the  councils  of  the  Revolution." 
—  Thwaites. 

The  "  State  House "  is  of  wood,  the  "  Capitol 
Square "  inclosed  bv  a  neat  wooden  fence.  The 
building  is  large,  and  the  rotunda  gives  it  an  impos- 
ing height,  that  seemed  better  to  fit  it  as  a  site  for 
the  magTiificent  statue  of  Washington,  chiseled  from 
pure  white  marble,  by  Carnova,  a  gifted  son  of  Rome. 

It  was  here  the  schoolgirls  from  the  Academy  would 

stop  and,  joining  hands,  form  a  circle  around  the 

statue  and  with  enthusiasm  sing  "  Hail  Columbia.'^ 

Ah,  who  dare  say  that  the  inherent  love  of  country 

is  not  fostered  by  its  monuments  and  patriotic  songs. 

The  youngest  one  in  the  party  never  forgot  those 

patriotic  marches  around  the  grand  monument,  and 

years  after  that  capitol  building  had  been  reduced 

to  ashes,  and  the  great  image  only  a  pile  of  broken 

stones,  like  the  vaulted  bones  of  the  great  patriot, 

this   incident   was   told   to   a  later  generation,    and 

listened  to  with  much  interest.     A  worthy  ambition 

was  kindled,  an  impatience  to  grow  up  and  emulate 

61 


62  VEK:tTAL  DUNE 

an  honored  hero's  example  and  be  worthy  of  such 
soul-stirring  demonstrations;  or,  as  the  sex  might 
be,  to  add  interest  and  devotion  to  every  great  na- 
tional cause  by  a  beautiful  enthusiasm  more  potent 
than  physical  strength.  If  all  the  unwritten  history 
of  our  State  could  be  gathered  into  an  historical 
scroll,  and  unfurled  before  the  gaze  of  an  inquiring 
world,  it  would  be  an  escutcheon  of  such  purity  and 
strength  that  even  the  opprobrium  of  later  years,  re- 
sulting from  national  interference, —  the  dirty  black 
seal  of  political  equality,  half-breeds,  and  low-bred 
demagogues, —  would  be  forgotten,  nay,  its  black 
record  would  be  as  night,  effaced  by  the  full  glare  of 
a  noonday's  sun !  and  the  keynote  to  heroic  deeds  that 
have  since  thrilled  the  heart  chords  of  nations. 
There  would  be  found  the  germ  of  strength  that  when 
called  into  action  seemed  abnormal  in  power  and 
superhuman  in  indurance.  There  was  rooted  the 
patriotism  that  nought  could  blight  or  trample  out. 
Each  generation  has  put  forth  healthy  buds,  and  even 
when  cut  through  to  the  very  heart  hardy  scions 
have  flourished  at  its  roots. 

A  very  handsome  oil  portrait  of  Washington  also 
hung  in  the  State  House.  It  was  painted  after  the 
original  by  the  celebrated  English  artist.  Sully. 

The  Raleigh  Female  Academy  and  the  Male 
Academy  were  located  in  the  same  grove.  The  first 
mentioned  Avas  presided  over  by  Miss  Benedict,  a 
lady  of  such  fine  attainments  and  estimable  character 
that   she   seemed   especially   fitted    for   that   place. 


YEEITAL  DU:^E  63 

Generations  after  the  good  lady  had  passed  away 
she  lived  in  the  memory  of  the  descendants  of  her 
pupils,  showing  how  her  name  had  been  a  house- 
hold word. 

The  Male  Academy  was  in  charge  of  a  worthy 
Presbyterian,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Mack,  who  energetically 
taught  the  boys  during  the  week  and  preached  on  the 
Sabbath.  The  schools  were  both  excellent  and  well 
patronized  by  the  citizens  and  wealthy  planters  skirt- 
ing the  city.  They  had  interesting  exhibitions  at  the 
close  of  the  term,  at  which  the  young  ladies  vied 
with  one  another  for  prizes  and  medals.  The  writ- 
ing and  reading  of  compositions  was  an  important 
feature  of  the  exercises,  each  written  in  India  ink, 
with  a  quill  pen,  and  sesthetically  tied  with  a  blue 
ribbon. 

It  is  now  May,  the  month  in  which  spring  is  most 
prodigal  with  her  floral  favors.  There  was  to  be  a 
"  May  Queen ''  festival  at  the  academy.  Ada 
Chasseur  who  had  led  her  class,  was  to  graduate  in 
June  with  high  honors,  even  bearing  off  the  gold 
medal ;  and  her  intelligence,  her  beauty,  and  her 
popularity  had  still  farther  honored  her,  by  making 
her  Queen  of  May.  A  large  platform  had  been 
erected  in  the  grove,  the  trees  surrounding  it  fes- 
tooned with  garlands  of  flowers  and  evergreens,  the 
platform  carpeted  and  a  throne  beautifully  decorated. 
A  band  of  musicians  was  engaged  to  discourse  sweet 
strains  for  the  occasion,  and  Colonel  Chasseur  had 
fulfilled  his  promise  that  a  new  silver  mounted  car- 


64  YEKN'AL  DUNE 

riage  should  be  in  time  for  the  "  royal  procession." 
The  academy  was  nearly  filled  with  baskets  and 
waiters,  contributions  to  the  feast.  The  festival  was 
to  be  an  enjoyable  social  event.  In  the  morning  im- 
patient children  and  crowds  of  interested  spectators 
commenced  to  gather.  The  entire  school  in  proces' 
sion  went  to  the  edge  of  the  grove  to  meet  the  queen. 
She  was  escorted  by  twelve  special  maids  of  honor  and 
the  rest  of  the  school  to  the  applause  of  the  admiring 
multitude;  twelve  little  girls  dressed  in  white,  with 
blue  sashes  and  shoulder  knots,  scattered  flowers 
along  the  pathway  to  the  throne  and  seated  them- 
selves upon  ottomans  about  the  queen's  feet,  while 
the  maids  in  waiting  arranged  themselves  in  a  semi- 
circle around  her.  Miss  Ann  Worthington  read  an 
appropriate  address  and  Miss  Martha  Shotwell  placed 
the  crown  upon  the  lovely  head  of  the  queen.  The 
old  men  smiled,  the  young  men  shouted,  and  the 
band  played. 

When  the  ceremonies  were  over  the  throng  sepa- 
rated and  such  groups  gathered  as  age  and  congeni- 
ality made  agreeable.  The  throne  was  soon  sur- 
rounded by  the  belles  and  beaux  of  the  county,  all  in 
holiday  attire,  making  a  very  attractive  and  sprightly 
company.  The  graceful  manners,  intelligence,  and 
wit  spoke  well  for  the  nobility  of  the  little  court. 

Charles  Launders,  a  bright  young  fellow  who  at- 
tended the  academy  said,  "  Miss  Jannette,  I  have 
been  more  curious  about  that  mysterious  whisper 
than  anything  I  ever  heard  of  before." 


yEE:N^AL  DUNE  65 

"  Now  honestly,  Charles,  haven't  you  a  ventrilo- 
quist in  your  school,  that  you  sent  over  to  worry  Miss 
Benedict  ? '' 

"  No,  'pon  my  Avord  of  honor  we  knew  nothing 
about  it  until  Miss  Benedict  sent  over  to  Doctor 
Mack,  to  know  if  any  of  the  boys  were  out,  that  she 
was  greatly  annoyed  by  someone  whistling.  Doctor 
called  the  roll,  and  laid  in  wait  for  Josh  Crawford; 
but  when  Josh  came  in  he  as  good  as  swore  he  hadn't 
been  near  the  academy.  Old  Mack  ought  to  have 
known  that  Josh's  nose  wouldn't  let  him  get  with- 
in a  mile  of  it,  and  his  mouth  is  so  big  if  he  had 
whiffed  a  whistle  it  would  have  blown  the  old  thing 
over." 

"  I  wish  he  had  whiffed  then,"  said  Mary  Grafton, 
laughing. 

"  Well,"  said  Jannette,  '^  Doctor  Mack  let  him  off, 
didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Let  him  off  ?  I  only  wish  he  had,"  he  said,  with 
the  air  of  a  martyr. 

"  Why,"  asked  Julia  Semloh,  smiling  at  the 
funny  fellow. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  ejaculated.  "  Old  Mack  made  him 
whistle  ten  minutes  for  punishment,  and  every  living 
man  of  us  had  a  crick  in  the  neck  from  the  draught." 

Interrupting  their  laughter,  Jannette  said,  "  I 
don't  think  he  ought  to  have  been  punished;  it  was 
only  circumstantial  evidence,  and  slim  at  that." 

"  Josh  wasn't  punished,  but  his  audience  went  into 
a  rapid  decline.     There  was  but  one  man  left  when 


66  vee:^al  dune 

he  got  through,  and  that  was  old  Mack;  and  now  he 
is  so  deaf  he  can't  hear  a  lesson." 

"  It  turned  out  that  much  of  a  ^  windfall/  any- 
way ?  "  laughed  Jannette. 

^^  Yes,  sir,  Josh's  tune  was  a  windfall,  any  way  it 
turned." 

Louise,  who  was  still  seated  on  the  ottoman  arrang- 
ing her  flowers,  said,  "  Well,  it  was  not  right  for  that 
poor  boy  to  suffer  for  what  we  girls  did." 

^^  Fie,  Louise!"  said  Martha;  "telling  tales  out 
of  school." 

"  But,  Cousin  Martha,  the  right  ones  ought  to  bear 
the  blame." 

"  The  child  is  right,"  said  Jannette,  laughing. 

"  I  knew  you  girls  had  been  up  to  some  mischief !  " 
exclaimed  Charles. 

"  Well,  do  not  let  Miss  Benedict  know  of  it,"  said 
Martha,  "  for  it  commenced  accidently.  One  of  the 
girls,  I  will  not  say  who,  whistled.  Miss  Benedict's 
eyes  flashed  fire  in  that  direction  and  just  as  she 
opened  her  lips  to  speak  to  Susan  —  I  mean  — " 

"  Hold  on !  "  said  Charles  gleefully,  "  while  I  run 
over  the  list  of  Susans." 

"  ISTo,  you  won't !  "  said  Jannette ;  "  we  are  not 
going  to  tell  who  started  it." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  who  did  it,"  laughed 
Charles.  "  I'll  just  watch  your  countenance,  and  I 
can  tell  the  minute  you  hit  the  right  Susan." 

"  The  girls  are  right,  Charles ;  stop  teasing  them," 
said  William  Chasseur. 


VEE]SrAL  T^TJ^'E  67 

"  All  right,  !^liss  Martha ;  begin  where  joii  left 
off  when  Susan  Worthington  whistled." 

"  I  didn't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  that  little  lady 
indignantly,  ''  at  least  not  until  it  got  too  thick  among 
the  large  girls,  and  then  I  just  whistled  to  help  them 
out." 

"  Then,"  said  Jannette,  "  after  the  thing  got 
started  we  were  obliged  to  keep  it  going  around  to 
prevent  Mrs.  Benedict  locating  it.  It  was  a  strange 
thing,  like  a  restless  spirit  flying  from  one  side  of 
the  house  to  the  other.  Miss  Benedict  got  so  de- 
moralized she  dismissed  school." 

"  I  believe  she  thought  it  was  a  ghost,"  said  one 
of  the  little  girls. 

^'  It  was,"  said  Charles  solemnly,  ''  and  everyone 
who  whistled  will  surely  die." 

'^  Oh,  Miss  Martha,  will  we  ?  "  asked  the  children, 
with  wide-open  eyes. 

But  Charles'  merry  laugh  was  too  contagious  to 
need  other  reply. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  Job,  or  whatever  you  call  him, 
was  punished,"  said  Jannette. 

"  Job  Josh,"  said  Charles  comically,  ^^  wasn't 
punished.  His  whistling  so  contracted  his  mouth 
he  has  not  been  able  to  recite  since.  Humph !  Job 
has  come  off  triumphant." 

And  thus  passed  the  happy  hours,  as  only  hours 
can  pass  when  a  merry  party  of  school  children  are 
having  a  gala  day. 

The  boys  of  the  academy  gave  a  ball  that  evening, 


68  VERISrAL  du:n'e 

complimentary  to  the  young  ladies.  Geeter's  dining 
hall  was  brilliantly  lighted  and  everything  arranged 
for  an  enjoyable  evening. 


CHAPTER  VII 
Festina  Lentb 

"  There    was    much    visiting  to  and  fro  among  the  county 
families." —  Thwaites. 

The  merry  party  at  Vernal-Dune  had  increased 

in  numbers.     Misses  Laura  and  Anne  Kerba,  with 

their  brother  Simmons,  had  aiTived.     Mr.  Jameston 

of    Petersburg    was    daily    expected,    but  traveling 

had  to  be  done  by  stage  or  private  conveyance,  and 

due  allowance  made  for  the  weather,  the  roads,  the 

horses,  and  also  for  the  inclination  of  the  traveler 

as  to  whether  the  trip  should  be  made  with  dispatch  or 

pursued  with  the  usual  view  to  comfort  and  pleasure. 

If  a  wayside  inn  was  reached,  the  accommodations 

good,    the    fresh    country    air   healthful,    the    rural 

scenery  pleasing,  why  not  loiter  a  day  or  two,  while 

the  horses  refreshed  themselves  by  kicking  up  their 

heels  in  green  pastures  and  wallowing  in  the  cool 

damp  earth  to  erase  the  harness  prints  with  which  the 

heat  and  dust  of  the  road  had  marked  them,  or  when 

stopping  in  the  heat  of  some  noon  at  a  smithy,  while 

the  horses'  feet  are  examined  and  tinkered  at  —  have 

the  huge  lunch  basket  removed  to  the  shade  trees 

near  a  spring,  and  from  its  liberal  depths  feast  with 

69 


70  vek:ntal  dune 

a  relish  that  is  rarely  known  in  this  dyspeptic  age  of 
fast  eaters,  fast  travelers,  and  fast  living  generally. 

It  was  true  that  sometimes  Sambo,  when  he  had 
his  lunch,  indulged  too  freely  in  the  wine  that  was 
left.  The  mixed  brands  took  effect  after  resuming 
the  journey,  and  the  spirited  horses  soon  found  it 
could  be  "  a  go-as-you-please  race."  Pitching  the 
tipsy  darkey  out  into  the  sand,  away  they  would  dash, 
until  stopped  by  someone  on  the  roadside  or  the 
length  of  a  steep  hill  convinced  them  their  little  joke 
had  been  carried  far  enough.  Then  the  faithful 
footman  would  be  promoted  to  the  boot,  and  the  dis- 
comfited coachman,  in  great  humiliation,  would  be 
made  to  take  a  back  seat,  from  which  he  could  fall 
with  less  danger  to  himself  as  well  as  the  occupants 
of  the  carriage.  However,  it  was  not  often  such 
adventures  disturbed  the  equanimity  of  travelers. 
They  might  doze  in  conscious  safety  or  follow  the 
thread  of  some  narrative  or  discuss  a  favorite  hobby, 
without  interruption  to  a  drowsy  companion,  or  loll 
back  upon  upholstered  seats  in  pleasant  meditation 
with  even  the  arms  supported  and  swinging  vdth 
every  motion  of  the  carriage,  with  time  and  oppor- 
tunity for  enjoying  the  healthful  odors  of  the  forest, 
for  hearing  the  soughing  of  the  pines,  and  feeling  a 
nearness  to  nature  that  is  impossible  in  other  ways 
of  traveling,  where  the  eve  and  brain  are  wearied 
by  fast  receding  objects  sweeping  by  a  car  window. 

Tn  this  day  of  pressing  hurry  it  is  even  refreshing 
to  think  of  a  period,  however  remote,  in  w^hich  there 


VER:N"AL  DUi^E  71 

was  no  need  for  perpetual  haste,  an  era  of  such,  easy 
living,  and  a  people  of  such  temperament,  that  they 
enjoyed  the  hour  as  it  came,  and  if  they  looked  to 
the  end  at  all,  it  was  in  the  spirit  of  ''  festina 
lente/'  The  easy  and  almost  noiseless  swing  of  the 
carriage  as  it  rolled  over  moss-growTi  paths  or  plains 
of  pine-straw,  the  shee !  shee  1  of  the  sand  as  the 
restive  horses  labored  through  it,  tossing  their  manes 
and  switching  their  tails  impatiently  at  the  persist- 
ent flies,  until  the  damp  fragrant  atmosphere  laden 
with  marshy  odors  forecast  the  cool  shadows  of  the 
brook,  then  the  clicking  grating  sound  as  the  steel 
tires  strike  the  pebble-coated  margin.  The  thirsty 
horses  champ  their  bits  and  shake  their  heads  while 
the  restraining  martingales  are  being  unfastened, 
gratefully  they  touch  their  lips  to  the  clear  dimpling 
water,  and  with  enjoyable  carefulness  sip  the  pass- 
ing current,  and  as  if  loath  to  be  satisfied  again  and 
again  take  a  mouthful  but  to  strain  through  their 
half-closed  teeth  the  trickling  drops  making  myriads 
of  little  circles,  that  break  their  reflection  into  tremu- 
lous, fragmentary  shadows.  Then  a  bunch  of  bay 
flowers,  white  dogwood,  jessamine,  or  shell-like  ivy 
is  within  easy  reach,  or  a  glimpse  of  rich  muscadines, 
its  luxuriant  vine  spreading  its  tempting  feast  from 
one  side  of  the  brook  to  the  other,  and  by  way  of  in- 
vitation thrusting  its  graceful  tendrils  in  at  the  car- 
riage window.  The  reins  tighten,  the  word  is  given, 
the  horses  pull  up  the  damp  ascent,  and  onward  they 
go,   with  renewed  vitality.     Perhaps   from   a  busi- 


72  iVEEITAL  DUNE 

ness  point  of  view  this  mode  of  traveling  does  not 
compare  favorably  with  the  more  expeditious  facili- 
ties of  the  present  day,  but  there  was  an  independ- 
ence of  movement,  a  restfulness  of  mind  pleasant  to 
contemplate,  that  must  have  been  more  enjoyable  and 
better  for  the  nervous  system  than  the  present  bustle 
and  smoke  of  the  modem  railway  —  not  mentioning 
the  competitive  demoniacal  demonstrations  of  rival 
hackmen. 

Instead  of  society  people  crowding  into  one  even- 
ing a  half  dozen  or  more  entertainments,  and  merely 
sipping  the  froth  of  each,  finding  little  to  satisfy  in- 
tellect or  heart,  the  elite  of  the  early  century  leisurely 
partook  from  the  cup  of  pleasure,  not  its  sparkle  only, 
but  the  exhilaration  and  strength  associations  will 
infuse.  Invited  guests  went  at  their  leisure  to  some 
noted  country  seat.  The  result  was  a  happy  house 
party  lasting  weeks,  perhaps  a  summer  or  a  winter, 
or  the  scenes  shifting  as  their  fancy  moved  them 
from  one  place  to  another. 

Ye  hurried  belated  travelers  who  arrive  only  in 
time  to  catch  sight  of  the  receding  train  of  cars  as 
you  mop  your  heated  brow,  repressing  certain  inar- 
ticlate  perorations  may  be  in  the  humor  to  give  "  ye 
olde  tymes  "  its  just  claim  to  some  advantages.  Say 
what  you  will  about  modem  improvements,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  our  ancestors  never  got  left! 


CHAPTER  VIII 
"  Ye  Goode  Olde  Tyme;  "" 

"  Some  glowing  pictures  of  life  in  these  *  baronial  halls/ 
with  their  great  open  fireplaces,  rich  furnishings  imported 
from  England,  crowds  of  negro  lackeys,  bounteous  larders, 
and  general  air  of  crude  splendor,  have  come  down  to  us." — 
Thwaites. 

Geeat  preparations  were  going  on  at  Yernal-Dime. 
llrs.  Chasseur  had  given  Miss  Barbara  directions 
concerning  cakes,  wafers,  custards,  and  jellies,  con- 
ferring with  her  on  the  subject  of  meats  and  salads, 
until  that  good  lady's  culinary  enthusiasm  reached 
such  a  height  that  she  bid  fair  to  eclipse  all  other 
perfonnances  of  similar  occasions.  Large  orders 
had  been  left  with  the  leading  caterer  for  such 
ornamental  confections  as  were  thought  desirable. 
The  capacious  kitchen,  with  its  extensive  hearth 
stretching  nearly  from  side  to  side  of  the  room  and 
extending  far  toward  the  middle  of  the  floor,  was  all 
a-bustle  with  huge  pots  and  kettles  smnging  from 
the  racks,  and  numerous  ovens,  skillets,  and  spiders, 
setting  on  piles  of  fire,  with  their  great  tops  glowing 
beneath  red-hot  coals.  Aunt  Hannah,  Aunt  Peggy, 
Mam  Phoebe,  and  Mam  Violet,  in  their  short  cotton 

frocks,  clean  ^^  kerchiefs  "  and  "  head  handkerchief '' 

73 


74:  VEENAL  DUNE 

made  a  stirring  scene,  turning  the  cooking  utensils, 
pushing  and  pulling  out,  taking  off,  or  putting  on 
coals,  as  the  contents  of  ovens  required,  with  such 
skill  and  satisfaction  at  the  process  of  the  baking 
characteristic  only  of  a  Southern  cook  of  "ye  olden 
tyme.'^ 

"■  Sis  Hannah,  jest  look  dar !  I  neber  seed  a 
likelier  hake,  jest  done  ernuff,  ^thout  a  speck  of  scorch 
nowhere." 

"  Well,  ain't  it  now !  If  dey's  all  as  scrumcious 
as  dat  dis  party  is  gine  to  take  the  rag  offen  de 
bush!  Here,  Sis  Hannah,  ketch  holt  this  hook,  and 
less  drag  it  out  a  little.  Dar !  that'll  do.  I  wouldn't 
have  it  ter  fall,  nohow.  What  dat  you  say,  Mar- 
garet ?  " 

"  Miss  Barb'ry  say  is  yer  got  room  'nuff  fer  nud- 
der  cake  ? " 

"  In  corse  we  is.  When  did  you  eber  see  de  time 
thar  want  room  in  dis  kitchen  ?  and  if  dar  ain't,  dar's 
de  laundry  chimerley,  as  big  as  t'other  folkes  kitchen. 
Mars  Theo  don't  bleve  in  skimertin'  'bout  cooking 
nor  nothin'  else,  he  don't.  You  Mar'g'rt! 
Mar — ger — it,"  elevating  her  voice,  for  Margaret  had 
joined  a  group  of  little  darkies  who  were  seesawing 
at  some  distance  from  the  kitchen. 

Margaret  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  plank, 
as  she  rocked  back  and  forth,  first  on  one  side  of  the 
fence  and  then  the  other,  her  faded  skirt  pufiing  out 
in  the  wind,  but  too  narrow  to  do  much  flying. 

Aunt  Phoebe  peered  through  the  kitchen  door  in  a 


VEKNAL  DUNE  75 

surreptitious,  side-long  manner,  as  if  pouncing  upon 
the  delinquent  just  outside  was  a  natural  sequence; 
but  as  Margaret  had  been  attracted  bj  the  noise  of 
the  children,  so  was  Aunt  Phoebe. 

^'  I  clare  fore  God,  dese  young  uns  is  a  'nuff  to 
aggrivoke  a  saint.  Miss  Barb'ry's  scake  er-gitting 
sot  back,  and  dat  or-da-cious  nigger  a-ridin'  of  de 
fence !  You,  Mar-grit !  if  you  don't  go  dis  bressed 
minit  and  tell  Miss  Barb'ry —  Yes'em,  I'll  make 
yo'  kerchy  lower  an'  dat !  Is  dat  you,  Eansom  ? 
Come  in  here  an'  he'p  me  off  wid  dis  pot.  Dinner 
got  to  be  done  time,  in  course  party  or  no  party." 

"  Sure  case  this  cabbage  smells  high,"  said  Han- 
som, as  the  steaming  odor  greeted  him. 

^'  This  is  ferd  ernuff,  Eansom ;  it  musten  git  cold." 

"  Do  you  want  t'others  down  ?  " 

"  Xo ;  they's  hams  fer  the  party.  I'm  a-feared 
dey  ain't  done  yet.  But  this  ole  gobbler  looks  like 
a  Christmas  picter'.  Dick !  "  she  called,  as  she  spied 
him  trotting  across  the  yard,  "  go  tell  yer  daddy  ter 
send  — " 

'^  Mammy,  I  ain't  got  no  time,  I  got  ter  take 
'Fayette,"  said  Dick,  hurrying  on  to  the  gate,  where 
his  young  master  had  just  ridden  up  accompanied  by 
several  gentlemen. 

"  Yer  lazy  hound !  Bound  yer  allers  got  time  for 
'Fayette!  Here,  Lisbon,  honey,  run  ask  yer  Uncle 
Tom  to  send  de  pa'sley.     Here's  a  pan." 

"Bur'el,"  said  Mam  Violet,  "take  that  pan, — 
not  dat,  the  big  one, —  and  run  do^vn  ter  de  kiln  fer 


76  vee:n'al  dune 

the  'taters.  Pick  'em,  Bnr'el,  thej's  fer  the  '  great 
house.'  " 

^'  Easter,"  said  Aunt  Jucly,  "  I'se  got  the  las'  pies 
on  de  waiter.  Cair  'em  ter  Miss  Barb'ry  and  tell 
her  there's  four  more  pastries." 

Here  Margaret  came  flying  in,  her  movements  be- 
ing regulated  by  the  degree  of  importance  or  rather 
the  interest  she  felt  in  the  errand.  To  be  able  to  stir 
up  the  inmates  of  the  kitchen  to  some  degree  of  anger 
or  indignation  was  considerable  impetus. 

"  Lor,  mammy,  General  Daniel's  dog  drug  de  ham 
offen  de  table,  and  Miss  Barb'ry  say  you'll  ha'  ter 
send  her  anudder  one !  " 

^'  De  Lord  o'mighty !  Mam  Yi'let !  you  hear  dat  ? 
De  orda-cious  ole  cuss,  how  come  he  couldn't  wait  tell 
his  time  come  —  unmannered,  slab-sided  old  critter ! 
See  here,  Margrit,  you  run  along  back  and  fetch  mo 
dat  ham." 

"  Why,  mammy,  yer  ain't  g^vine  to  eat  what  the 
dog  is  et,  is  yer  ?  " 

"  'No,  you  fool !  What  de  dog  is  et  he's  et,  and 
what  he  ain't  et  is  left  dar.  He  ain't  pizon,  as  I 
knows  on.  No  kane  ter  fling  away  de  hole  ham 
'cause  de  dog  totch  it.  N"ow  mind  what  I  say. 
Don't  I  knock  yer  head  off." 

"  Mammy,"  said  Dick,  approaching  with  his  tin- 
cup,  "  gimme  some  pot-licker  ?  " 

"  Yes,  here  yer  come  nosen  round  like  General 
Daniel's  ole  dog.  How  come  you  can't  wait  for  your 
dinner  ?  " 


VEEXAL  DUNE  Y7 

"  Well,  I'se  gwine  ter  wait  fer  mj  dinner  whilst  I 
eats  my  supe.  De  white  folks  eats  dey  supe  whilst 
dey  waits." 

She  gave  a  depreciatory  gnmt,  but  filled  his  cup, 
and  sitting  down  on  the  doorstep  Dick  regaled  him- 
self with  great  relish. 

Eansom  came  in  with  a  large  tureen  and  sundry 
dishes  and  platters,  while  Bur'l,  Esther,  Lisbon,  and 
Matilda  followed  with  others.  The  turtle  soup  was 
sufficiently  odoriferous  to  sharpen  the  appetite  of 
the  most  fastidious  epicure.  With  the  assistance  of 
several  more  serv^ants  the  dinner  was  served  in  the 
commodious  dining-room  as  usual. 

The  well  knoT\Ti  and  appreciated  hospitality  of 
Vernal-Dune  made  every  day  a  dining.  ISTo  meal 
time  ever  approached  that  did  not  find  elaborate  and 
appetizing  viands,  and  spread  with  such  liberality 
that  the  quality  or  quantity  of  guests  made  little  dif- 
ference. 'No  especial  preparations  were  necessary 
before  hazarding  an  invitation  to  a  hunting  party, 
and  there  was  some  reason  in  Aunt  Phoebe's  queru- 
lous question,  "  Why  General  Daniel's  old  hound 
couldn't  wait  until  his  time  come,"  for  a  quantitv  of 

/  J.  «, 

meal  was  cooked  into  pones  of  bread  every  day, 
which,  with  sundry  scraps  from  the  table  and  stock 
from  various  boiled  pots,  made  liberal  feed. 

It  is  not  out  of  place  here  to  say  a  word  in  extenu- 
ation of  that  oft  and  almost  incredible  sigh  for  "  ye 
good  old  times "  we  of  a  later  generation  have  so 
often  heard,  and  are  wont  to  say,  "  Ye  good  old  times 


78'  yee:n'al  dune 

indeed !  Why,  you  had  no  railroads.'^  I^o,  but  we 
had  our  private  carriage.  If  it  was  some  distance 
and  we  preferred  no  delay,  there  were  relays  of 
horses :  it  took  longer  to  get  from  one  place  to  another, 
but  the  exercise  was  healthful  and  agreeable. 
"  But  you  had  no  gas,  no  electric  lights." 
'No,  but  we  had  wax  candles.  Their  beautiful  soft 
light  thrust  forth  from  unique  silver  candelabra,  and 
oil  lamps,  those  antique  things  of  bronze  and  marble, 
that  the  aesthetes  of  to-day  hear  of,  and  refuse  to  be 
comforted,  because  thev  are  not. 

"  But  you  had  no  furnace,  range,  stove,  or  grate." 
ISTo,  but  we  had  huge  logs  of  resinous  pine  that  men 
servants  kept  piled  high  on  curiously  wrought  and- 
irons —  that  threw  such  a  happy  glow  over  a  Christ- 
mas hearth  it  seemed  the  embodied  spirit  of  merry 
"  Kris  Kringle  "  diifused  itself  over  all  the  occupants 
of  a  room  until  their  very  shadows  cut  comic  capers 
from  the  great  joy  within.  And  we  had  hewers  of 
wood  and  drawers  of  water. 

Thus  might  the  illimitable  list  of  modem  im- 
provements be  run  through,  and  the  reply  would  still 
be  with  imperturbable  pertinacity. 

1^0,  we  had  not  those  things,  but  we  had  money, 
and  Money  answereth  all  things,  and  last  but  not 
least  we  had  retinues  of  well-trained  servants,  so 
manv  indeed,  there  were  no  circumstances  to  be 
imagined  that  could  in  any  way  interrupt  the  smooth 
running  of  the  domestic  machinery.  No  department 
was  disorganized  or  interrupted  on  account  of  sick- 


VEENAL  DUNE  79 

ness ;  the  sick  were  kindly  cared  for,  man,  woman, 
or  child  as  the  case  might  be,  but  there  were  too 
many  cooks,  laundry  women,  men-servants  and 
maids  for  any  casualty  to  scotch  the  machinery.  It 
was  always  in  good  working  order. 

Mrs.  Chasseur  as  wife,  mother,  and  mistress  was 
indeed  a  blessing  to  the  household.  So  sweet  in 
character  and  fair  of  face,  she  was  almost  idolized 
by  the  entire  plantation.  She  was  ever  ready  with 
a  kind  comforting  word  for  the  aged  and  encourage- 
ment for  the  young;  even  her  gentle  remonstrance 
carried  with  it  an  aroma  of  kindliness  that  seemed 
to  penetrate  the  hearts  of  the  most  careless  and  ob- 
durate. 

Now  this  was  before  "  Old  John  Brown  came 
marching  on."  No  infection  had  been  sown  among 
the  negroes  ;  they  were  inherited  property  ard  the  two 
races,  having  always  lived  in  the  relative  position 
of  master  and  servant,  were  a  mutual  help  to  each 
other.  A  deep  interest,  and  even  affection,  existed 
between  them,  such  as  only  lifelong  ties  and  unin- 
terrupted associations  of  good  and  evil  can  engender. 
The  old  negroes  passing  into  the  hands  of  a  younger 
generation  held  their  places  with  something  of  an 
humble  dignity  such  as  kindly  respect  accorded  them, 
not  only  on  account  of  their  valuable  services,  but 
also  because  of  their  positions  as  father's  body  servant, 
mother's  maid,  the  family  nurse,  or  the  colored 
mammy  of  their  own  childhood;  and  thus  the  ties 
innumerable  held  them  together. 


80  VERNAL  DUNE 

Parents  would  relate  with  feeling  incidents  in 
which,  during  sickness  and  trouble,  the  negro  serv- 
ants were  unselfish  and  faithful ;  and  then  again  the 
incidents  recorded  would  be  drolly  humorous.  In 
this  way  much  traditional  history  of  a  race  was  gath- 
ered and  transmitted  from  generation  to  generation; 
^'  naught  set  down  in  malice,"  but  every  good  point 
brought  boldly  forth  to  be  appreciated  and  rewarded. 
The  children  of  a  family  were  so  familiarized  with 
the  traits  and  character  of  the  race  that  a  most  har- 
monious adjustment  of  natural  laws  to  the  fitness 
of  things  was  established,  and  the  Maker  and  Ruler 
of  all  things  seemed  to  recognize  this  fitness  as  He 
did  in  the  old  patriarchal  age,  when  he  not  only  per- 
mitted a  similar  relationship  to  exist,  but  admonished 
a  refractory  maid  to  return  to  her  mistress  and  sub- 
ject herself  unto  her. 

These  old  negroes  never  forgot  or  grew  tired  of 
talking  about  ''  Old  Master  and  Old  Miss."  Often 
scraps  of  conversation  might  be  overheard  in  which 
was  blended  much  pride  and  affection. 

"  I  'clare  'fore  gracious  I  loves  to  look  at  Mars 
Theo.  He  gits  more  like  his  pa  ev'y  day  he  lives. 
Got  the  same  ha'r  and  eyes  like  his  pa's,  for  all  de 
world." 

"Yes,  he  is.  Mam  Vi'let,  nuf  like  as  two  black- 
eyed  peas,  and  they  was  both  good-hearted  and  easy- 
lake." 

"  I  remembers  Ole  Misses  'fore  she  died,"  said 
Phoebe. 


VEKNAL  DUNE  ;  81 

"  Of  course  yer  does.  You  was  a  big  gal,  'bout 
as  big  as  Margrit.  Ole  Miss  said  to  me,  ^  Vi'let,  I 
bleve  you'll  be  good  to  my  dear  little  boy  ' —  that  was 
Mars  Theo." 

•^  Yes,  Mam  Vi'let,  I  reckerlecks  it,  'cause  Mars 
Harry  was  de  knee  baby,  and  you  was  good  ter  bim, 
'caze  I  hear  Mars  Theo  say  so  heself." 

'^  Yes,  Phoebe,  he  was  a  powerful  wakeful  chile. 
I'd  walk  de  floor  wid  him  tell  soon  as  I  sot  down  I'd 
drap  off  ter  sleep  fore  I  knowed  it.  Me  and  Miss 
Irene  raised  dat  chile.  She  was  one  good  omman, 
but  we  is  all  got  ter  die.  Yes,  Phoebe,  we's  all  got 
ter  die." 

^'  Dat's  so,  Mam  Vi'let,  beyant  a  reason'ble 
doubt." 

"  Matildy,  is  dat  you  ?  Wash  dem  two  pans  there 
on  the  table.  I  'clare  fore  gracious  I  got  ter  have  er 
dip  o'  snuff  or  break  a  trace." 

With  a  sigh  of  intense  satisfaction  she  seated  her- 
self and  proceeded  to  take  her  dip,  after  which  she 
would  get  her  usual  nap  or  spend  the  rest  of  the 
evening  as  she  pleased.  She  was  a  good  cook  and 
liked  to  help  about  the  dinners,  but  the  most  of  her 
time  was  spent  in  the  house  ordering  the  younger 
maids  about. 

It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  race  to  be  domineering, 
and  it  matters  not  what  may  be  their  affection  for 
their  children  or  their  dog,  they  assert  their  author- 
ity with  no  light  hand. 


CHAPTER,  IX 

Gentlemen  of  Leisubei 

One  of  the  gentlemen  who  accompanied  William 
was  his  friend  William  Jameston.  He  had  visited 
Vernal-Dune  before,  when  a  youth,  and  had  now 
come  by  special  invitation  to  make  one  of  a  gay 
house  party.  He  was  the  only  child  of  a  wealthy 
Virginia  aristocrat.  There  had  been  no  hurry  about 
choosing  a  profession,  as  he  had  been  a  close  student. 
Of  a  naturally  quiet,  thoughtful  disposition  and 
rather  slight  build,  with  blue  eyes  and  blonde  hair, 
perhaps  delicate  looking,  no  one  would  have  called 
him  effeminate.  There  was  such  strength  of  char- 
acter in  his  intellectual  face,  that  even  before  he  spoke 
manifested  plenitude  of  mental  and  moral  power. 

Xow  as  they  retired  from  the  dining-room,  it  be- 
ing a  lovely  spring  day,  some  of  the  guests  gathered 
in  the  porch. 

Jannette's  attention  had  been  called  to  a  cluster  of 
roses,  and  as  she  walked  out  into  the  yard  with  Mr. 
Jameston  she  obser\^ed: 

^'  I  am  glad  that  you  came  at  this  especial  time, 
Mr.  Jameston." 

"  I  am  sure,"  he  replied,  his  face  lighting  up  with 
a  smile  both  pleased  and  questioning,  "  it  could  never 

82 


VEEXAL  DUKE  83 

be  anything  else  than  a  pleasure  to  me,  but  you 
greatly  enhance  that  pleasure  by  the  assurance  that 
this  coming  has  not  been  inopportune." 

"  The  arrival  of  a  friend  could  never  be  that. 
You  know  how  fond  of  company  we  all  are,  but  I 
meant  that  it  was  nice  for  Brother  William  to  have 
some  of  his  gentleman  friends  with  him,  now  that 
w^e  have  so  many  girls  with  us.  You  will  each  help 
the  other  pass  the  time  more  agTeeably." 

There  was  a  perceptible  fall  of  the  pleasurable 
temperature  of  Mr.  Jameston's  expression  as  he 
looked  at  Jannette  a  moment,  and  as  the  pink  deep- 
ened on  her  fair  face  the  glance  of  his  thoughtful 
eyes  merely  moved  beyond  her.  Then  throwing 
from  him  a  handful  of  rose  leaves  that  had  fallen 
from  its  stem  as  he  touched  it,  he  replied :  — 

"  Miss  Jannette,  I  think  Yernal-Dune  and  its 
charming  inmates  always  agreeable,  without  any  ex- 
terior or  imported  adjuncts." 

''  Oh,  certainly,"  she  replied,  somewhat  archly, 
^'  but  be  candid  and  natural  enough  to  agree  with  me 
—  you  know  the  more  the  merrier." 

''  I  wish  I  might  dare  be.  I  will  at  least  venture 
this  much,"  he  said,  with  a  flicker  of  a  smile,  ^'  I  am 
not  sure  about  the  preference  for  a  mirthful  multi- 
tude. I  find  a  decided  pleasure  in  the  presence  of 
only  one." 

''  Fie,  Mr.  Jameston !  I  did  not  imagine  you  so 
selfish.  A  gentleman  of  your  intelligence  ought  to 
be  able  to  entertain  more  than  one." 


84  YERl^AL  DUE"E 

*^  It  is  not  a  question  of  capability,  Miss  Jannette, 
but  preference." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  moving  slowly  toward  the  porcb, 
"  you  may  do  as  you  please,  but  you  must  impar- 
tially divide  your  time." 

^'  Why  should  you  enforce  a  division  of  my  time, 
when  Henry  Shotwell  talked  with  you  a  full  hour 
before  dinner.     At  that  rate  he  will  not  get  around." 

"  I  am  not  counted  in,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  I 
merely  fill  a  place  when  it  is  hopelessly  vacant." 

"  Ah,  well,  that  is  better.  I  am  glad  that  your 
time  is  not  under  restrictions.  Of  course  as  perfect 
hostess  you  will  fill  the  vacancies." 

"  Or  see  that  they  are  filled,"  she  corrected,  laugh- 
ing. 

They  had  reached  the  porch.  The  gentlemen  had 
proposed  a  fox  hunt  for  the  following  morning,  in 
which  several  of  the  ladies  would  join  —  Misses 
Anne  Kerba,  Martha  Shotwell,  Julia  Semloh,  and 
Ada. 

"  Miss  Jannette,  you  will  join  the  hunting  party, 
will  vou  not  ?  "  asked  General  Daniel,  takinsc  her  ann 
as  she  ascended  the  steps. 

"  'No,  I  think  not.  I  detest  early  rising,  and  the 
only  time  I  did  go  I  felt  so  sorry  for  the  poor  fox. 
I  didn't  enjoy  it  at  all,  not  even  the  ride." 

''  Ha !  ha !  ha !  "  roared  the  General.  "  Who  ever 
heard  of  such  a  fox  hunter  ?  Felt  sorry  for  the  poor 
fox.  Ha !  ha !  but  you  can  go  deer  hunting  '  siib- 
rosa  '  without  any  compunction."     This  last  was  said 


VEE^TAL  DU:^rE  85 

in  a  whisper,  but  the  rich  color  mounted  Jannette's 
face,  and  pulling  away  from  the  General's  detaining 
hand  she  ran  into  the  house,  while  the  General  in- 
dulged in  another  good-natured  laugh  and  slyly 
winked  at  Jameston.  That  gentleman  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  he  had  to  do  with  the  hunt,  but 
the  whisper,  the  blush  and  the  hunt  seemed  to  have 
some  connection  which  he  w^ould  liked  to  have  solved. 

However,  his  attention  was  called  in  another  direc- 
tion. Colonel  Chasseur  addressed  him.  The  Colonel 
was  a  handsome,  genial  man,  with  no  affected  dignity 
of  manner  to  sustain  a  vaunted  individuality.  He 
had  inherited  from  honorable  progenitors  distinctive 
marks  that  signalized  the  true  gentleman.  There 
was  a  rich  heartiness  of  tone,  an  enjoyable  laugh,  a 
cordial  interest  and  pleasure  in  the  enjoyment  of  his 
family,  and  guest,  that  made  him  a  perfect  host. 

"  Mr.  Jameston,"  he  asked,  '"'  have  you  decided 
upon  a  profession  ?  Or  is  it  enough  for  you  to  man- 
age your  estates  ? " 

Young  Jameston  never  spoke  hurriedly,  and  now 
there  was  a  slight  pause  between  question  and  an- 
swer ;  then  he  said : 

''  I  am  somewhat  troubled  on  that  point.  My 
father,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  differs  from  me  in  regard 
to  the  choice  of  a  profession.  He  thinks  I  am  not 
over-strong  — " 

"  Well,"  interrupted  the  Colonel,  "  there  is  time 
enough.  A  season  or  two  in  sporting  or  traveling 
will  set  you  all  right.     See  William,   how  he  has 


86  VEEl^AL  DUNE 

improved.  You  know  this  college  work,  like  a  hot- 
bed, makes  you  shoot  right  up  white  and  tender ;  it  is 
better  to  get  a  little  more  fiber  to  the  constitution. 
William  does  more  now  of  everything  else  than 
study.  When  there  is  no  interval  of  dependence, 
this  getting  right  down  to  work  is  not  necessary.  A 
gentleman  can  afford  to  take  life  easy.  Where  there 
is  a  super-abundance  of  brain  there  should  be  a  hobby. 
You  see,  the  mind  likes  to  grow ;  it  is  always  reaching 
up  higher  and  higher.  There  is  little  for  it  to  take 
hold  of  in  its  effort  to  rise,  in  mere  pastime  and 
pleasures,  it  needs  something  to  stimulate  it,  and 
there  is  where  the  profession  comes  in.  Study  keeps 
up  the  mental  standard  while  the  recreations  keep  up 
the  physical  man.  I  am  glad  William  has  made  a 
choice.  This  medical  science  is  a  fine  ladder  for  the 
mind.  It  will  have  to  mount  high  if  it  would  see 
its  way  clearly  among  the  afflicted  of  the  earth. 
There  is  a  difference  between  a  gentleman  of  leisure 
and  a  lazy  man.  The  first  has  time  at  his  disposal, 
the  latter  is  at  the  disposal  of  time." 

Jameston  smiled.  "  You  are  right,  sir ;  I  cannot 
imagine  a  worse  condition  than  to  be  at  the  mercy 
of  time  without  mental  defence.  I  shall  certainly 
endeavor  to  dispose  of  my  time  with  advantage  to  my- 
self and  others." 

"  Well,  there  is  time  enough  for  you  to  settle  down. 
You  will  have  to  be  stronger  to  do  justice  to  your- 
self. If  you  follow  William  in  the  saddle  a  month 
or  two  they  won't  know  you  at  home."  . 


vek:n'al  dune  st 

^^  I  do  not  think  a  visit  to  so  healthy  and  agreeable 
a  place  as  Vernal-Doine  could  be  without  benefit,  and 
I  am  specially  contented  to  be  a  guest,  though  a  fort- 
night must  be  the  length  of  my  stay." 

''  Tut,  tut !  that  is  nothing  at  all.  A  delicate  per- 
son is  apt  to  feel  worse  from  any  change  at  first. 
Now  you  will  feel  only  fatigue  from  your  rides,  and 
later  their  benefit ;  besides,"  he  added,  laughing,  ''  if 
you  follow  William  in  the  saddle  a  week  you  will  not 
be  able  to  leave  soon  after." 

"  I  must  have  an  eye  to  that,"  replied  the  young 
man  pleasantly. 

^'  I  think  Semloh  is  making  up  a  party  to  go  with 
him  down  home  —  old  Sampson,  you  know.  You 
must  not  miss  that  sport.     Are  you  a  good  shot  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  have  been  raised  in  a  city, 
with  few  rural  sports.  My  recreations  and  accom- 
plishments are  those  afforded  by  such  environ- 
ments." 

^'  Ah,  yes,  theatres,  lectures,  concerts,  etc.  By  the 
way,  are  you  fond  of  music  ?  You  must  have  Sarah 
play  for  you.  She  performs  well  on  the  piano  and 
harp.  Professor  Gonica  says  she  plays  with  more 
expression  and  better  time  than  any  girl  in  the 
State." 

"  Does  Miss  Jannette  play  ?  " 

"  The  little  rogue !  She  catches  by  ear  and  plays 
easily  everything  the  others  study  out." 

Jameston  smiled.  '^  You  spoke  of  my  not  being 
able  to  leave  Vernal-Dune  if  I  followed  William. 


88  vee:n'al  duxe 

I  am  sure  it  will  be  much  more  difficult  if  I  remain 
in  company  of  your  charming  daughter." 

This  was  said  playfully,  but  his  color  deepened. 

"  Between  two  fires,  eh  ? ''  laughed  the  Colonel. 
Hyman  and  McKinnon  here  rode  up. 

Jameston  slyly  remarked :  "  It  looks  as  though 
this  is  Cupid's  headquarters.  I  am  counting  my- 
self in,  Colonel." 

"  Well,  young  folks  must  enjoy  themselves ;  be- 
sides, I  think  there  is  safety  in  numbers." 

'^  But  it  increases  the  complications  of  a  very  in- 
tricate and  hazardous  undertaking,"  said  Jameston, 
his  color  fluctuating  like  a  girl's. 

"  That  is  true,"  returned  the  Colonel,  "  but  there 
is  little  sport  without  a  race." 

The  general  greeting  of  the  gentlemen  interrupted 
the  conversation,  the  subject  of  which  was  very  near 
Jameston's  heart. 

When  evening  approached,  the  bright  lights  gleam- 
ing from  the  windows,  the  gay  chatter  and  merry 
laughter  testified  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  party.  Hy- 
man and  Miss  Laura  Kerba  were  having  a  lively 
discussion ;  her  sister  Anna  and  William  seemed  en- 
tirely satisfied  with  their  cosy  comer ;  Sarah  and  Mc- 
Kinnon were  oblivious  of  the  others ;  Jameston  and 
Simmons  Kerba  were  arguing  some  point  with  Miss 
Julia;  General  Daniel  was  trying  to  overcome  Jan- 
nette's  repugnance  to  hunting  the  '^  poor  fox,"  while 
Semloh  and  Ada  were  disputing  over  a  move  in  chess 
and  called  the  General  as  arbiter. 


YEEis^AL  DUIS^E  =  89 

Jameston  immediately  availed  himself  of  the  va- 
cant cliair  by  Jannette. 

^'  I  think  vacant  seats  have  been  proscribed,  have 
they  not  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  But  the  duty  of  filling  them  was  not  imposed 
upon  yon,"  she  replied  quizzically. 

He  colored  somewhat,  asking  softly,  ''  What  must 
I  infer  from  that  ?  " 

"  Only  that  we  are  a  lively  set  of  girls,  always 
ready  at  repartee." 

"  Without  counting  the  cost,  whether  it  may  cause 
encouragement  or  despondency  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Xot  exactly,   only  when  the  subject  is  a  light 


one." 


"  Well,"  said  he,  smiling,  ^^  let's  get  at  that  more 
clearly.  I  think  our  subject  was  a  vacancy;  that  va- 
cancy was  near  you.  You  will  not  make  light  of 
that,  will  vou  ?  " 

^^  How  can  I?"  she  asked  laughingly,  "when  I 
am  completely  in  the  dark." 

"May  I  throw  more  light  on  the  subject  ? "  he 
asked,  his  thoughtful  eyes  looking  clearly  into  hers. 

"  We  are  wandering  entirely  from  the  original 
subject  —  vacancies.  I  suppose  light  may  be  thrown 
into  a  vacuum,  but  you  must  admit  that  nothing  is 
a  poor  reward  for  scientific  research." 

The  thoughtful  expression  of  his  clear  blue  eyes 
was  intensified.  Humoring  the  metaphor,  he  con- 
tinued :  "  Yes,  but  a  miner  in  search  of  hidden  treas- 
ures must  find  an  unclaimed  portion  —  a  vacancy,  if 


90  VERBAL  DUNE 

you  will/'  smiling,  "  and  only  then  may  he  honorably 
drive  his  stake." 

The  saucy  Jannette  was  so  well  cornered  she 
scarcely  knew  what  to  answer,  but  tried  to  hide  her 
embarrassment  in  gay  banter. 

''  Well,  Mr.  Jameston,  I  can  only  say  that  if  the 
field  referred  to  is  my  conversational  powers  or  men- 
tal capacity,  your  explorations  will  not  pay  you." 

"  I  have  heard  of  just  such  discouragement  being 
given  to  other  explorers,  but  I  am  determined  not  to 
be  so  easily  discouraged;  I  am  too  desirous  of  win- 
ning.    ^  Nothing  ventured  nothing  won.'  " 

At  this  point  Shotwell  interrupted  them.  "  James- 
ton,  Cousin  Sarah  wants  you  to  sing  with  her." 

Before  leaving  Jannette  he  said  earnestly :  "  Miss 
Jannette,  I  have  met  with  no  encouragement,  but  I 
have  at  least  driven  my  stake." 


CHAPTEK  X 
Fox-hunting 

The  sun  rose  over  Yernal-Dune  bright  and  rosy 
as  a  maiden's  dream.  The  huntsman's  horn  sounded 
long  and  clear,  bringing  together  the  scattered  hounds 
in  yelping  ecstasy.  The  blinds  of  an  upstairs  win- 
dow opened,  and  William  hailed  the  sportsmen  be- 
low. 

'''  All  right,  boys,  come  in ;  we'll  be  down  in  a  min- 
ute." 

As  he  passed  along  the  hall  he  rapped  at  a  closed 
door :  '^  Say,  in  there,  are  you  girls  up  ?  " 

'^  Yes,  long  ago,"  Avas  the  response.  ^'  We  will 
be  down  by  the  time  you  all  are  ready." 

William  met  the  gentlemen  coming  in  —  Dr.  Hy- 
man.  General  Daniel,  Mr.  Peter  Brown  and  General 
Edney.  As  they  passed  to  the  sideboard  to  take  a 
'^  constitutional,"  a  waiter  of  toast  and  coffee  was 
taken  upstairs  to  the  girls.  Then  out  came  Shotwell, 
Kerba,  Semloh,  and  Jameston.  The  last  mentioned 
took  coffee  instead  of  wine. 

Soon  Sarah,  Ada,  Julia,  and  Anne  came  running 

down,  and  as  they  were  mounting  William  Boyden, 

familiarly  kno^vn   as   ^^  Buck,"   to   distinguish   him 

91 


92  VEEIN^AL  DUNE 

from  his  father,  galloped  up.  ''  Buck  ''  was  a  jovial 
clever  fellow,  a  gentleman  of  leisure,  and  could  be 
relied  on  to  make  one  of  a  gay  hunting  party.  He 
was  accompanied  by  Charles  Launders. 

After  the  usual  greeting,  Charles  asked :  "  Miss 
Ada,  where  is  Miss  Jannette  ?  " 

'^  My  dear  boy,  she  is  still  in  the  land  of  dreams. 
She  sat  up  later  than  usual  last  night,  and  you  know 
her  motto,  ^  Early  to  bed  and  late  to  rise.'  " 

"  What  was  the  unusual  attraction  that  kept  her 
up  last  night  ?  " 

As  he  asked  the  question  his  eyes  met  those  of  Mr. 
Jameston,  and,  though  provoking  and  uncalled  for, 
they  both  colored. 

Jameston  smiled  and  extended  his  hand,  ^'  Why, 
Launders,  I  did  not  recognize  you  at  first  —  you 
have  run  up  so.  I  remember  you  were  quite  a  shaver 
when  I  was  here  before." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  boy ;  "  you  have  been  growing 
some  too.     When  did  you  come  ?  " 

"  Yesterday." 

They  moved  off  together  as  the  party  rode  on. 
General  Daniel  galloped  back  and  forth,  sometimes 
lagging  behind  to  chatter  with  the  girls,  sometimes 
rushing  forward  to  locate  the  dogs.  Once  he  quickly 
raised  his  hand  to  his  ear  in  a  listening  attitude,  say- 
ing to  Semloh,  "  That  bark  sounds  very  much  like 
Fleet." 

"  Well,  it  may  be.     What  of  it  ?  " 

"  'No,  it  can't  be.     You  see  he  is  a  little  lame,  and 


VEENAL  DUNE  93 

I  was  afraid  to  let  him  run  to-day.     I  shut  him  up 
at  home." 

It  was  a  perfect  morning  for  a  race,  the  spring 
air  just  right  for  the  exercise,  and  the  gay  party 
was  enjoying  it.  Gallant  men  and  beautiful  ladies, 
all  were  fine  riders,  and  their  pleasure  was  increased 
by  the  spice  of  expectancy  at  the  end  of  the  run. 
Repartee  was  more  brilliant,  laughter  more  joyous, 
eyes  brighter,  cheeks  rosier,  and  hearts  lighter  this 
morning  as  Nature  was  given  fair  play  to  evolve  a 
perfect  race  of  men  and  women.  It  is  not  to  be 
wondered  that  the  descendants  of  this  race  of  people 
proved  to  be  of  the  most  chivalrous  and  brave,  those 
whose  phenomenal  endurance  through  the  hard- 
ships of  war  immortalized  their  race  and  their  coun- 
try. 

The  party  had  kept  a  well-beaten  way.  Upon 
reaching  the  top  of  a  hill  the  practiced  ear  of  the 
huntsmen  caught  the  familiar  sound  of  the  hounds 
in  hot  pursuit  of  the  fox.  William  called  to  the 
girls  to  keep  the  path  in  a  brisk  run,  while  he  and 
General  Daniel  made  a  detour  of  the  woods  in  the 
wake  of  the  dogs.  Now  came  the  excitement,  the 
fox  might  pass  at  any  point  of  the  way,  and  as  he 
dodged  back  and  forth  through  the  forest,  his  dis- 
tance or  proximity  signaled  by  the  low  or  loud  bark- 
ing of  the  clogs,  the  sudden  halt  of  the  equestrians, 
the  hurried  breath,  the  eager  eye,  the  graceful  pose, 
the  race  renewed  with  fresh  interest  —  all  testified 
to  the  pleasure  so  little  understood  by  those  who  are 


94  VEKNAL  DUNE 

ignorant  or  indifferent  to  the  sport.  It  is  a  scene 
too  active  for  an  artist's  brush. 

Dick,  mounted  bareback  on  "  old  Bet,'^  had  his  full 
share  of  the  sport.  He  knew  every  fence  that  had  to 
be  lowered,  and  he  could  tell  which  fences  were  be- 
tween dogs  and  riders,  and  never  failed  to  be  on  time 
with  an  outlet  for  the  ladies.  His  skillful  riding 
and  scientific  manner  of  demolishing  a  panel  of  fence 
were  a  source  of  amusement  for  the  girls. 

*'^  I  could  swear  that  Fleet  is  in  that  pack,"  said 
General  Daniel,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse  and  clear- 
ing the  fence,  ^'  but  how  in  the  thunder  he  got  there 
I  can't  tell.  I  didn't  only  tie  him,  but  I  locked  the 
door." 

•^  Humph!"  ejaculated  Semloh.  "That  villain- 
ous pack  has  let  the  fox  give  them  the  slip  again," 
and  they  paused  a  moment  from  pursuit. 

Jameston  and  Launders  had  turned  and  raced  back 
at  a  promising  bay,  but  finding  that  the  dogs  were 
again  outwitted  they  were  returning  with  slackened 
pace,  as  if  awaiting  a  more  satisfactory  signal  for 
pursuit,  when  a  stone's-throw  away  old  Reynard 
paused  with  nose  in  the  air  and  foot  lightly  raised, 
ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  take  flight. 

Charles,  in  true  huntsman's  spirit,  grasped  his 
horn  to  call  the  dogs,  but  just  as  it  touched  his  lips 
Jameston  caught  his  arm,  causing  only  a  broken  note, 
and  the  fox  taking  warning  loped  noiselessly  into  the 
thicket. 

"  Hello !     What's  up  ?  "  exclaimed  Charles. 


YEEXAL  BJJlsE  ^  95 

^'  I  only  wanted  to  gratify  a  certain  little  lady. 
She  will  be  greatly  pleased  to  hear  that  the  '  poor 
fox  '  escaped/'  replied  Jameston,  smiling. 

^^  Miss  Jannette !  "  exclaimed  Charles.  "  I  am  glad 
you  knocked  me.  I'd  be  knocked  off  my  horse  to 
please  her.  I  know  what  she  thinks  about  hunting, 
but  I  never  thought  —  you  see  it  is  so  exciting." 

^^  Yes,  and  I  know  my  move  was  very  unsports- 
man-like,  but  I  have  been  raised  in  a  city  and  really 
would  have  to  cultivate  anything  like  your  enthusi- 


asm." 


"  See  here,  Mr.  Jameston,  these  fellows  will  never 
let  us  hear  the  last  of  this." 

'"  Oh  !  it  was  not  vour  fault.  I  don't  care  for  their 
chaffing.     I  will  have  Miss  Jannette  on  my  side." 

"  Well,  that's  something ;  I  wish  I  had  thought  of 
it  myself,"  said  the  boy  regretfully. 

•^  Really,  Launders,  your  acquiescing  so  readily 
and  our  motive  for  not  blowing  the  horn  is  the  same. 
We  will  share  Miss  Jannette's  pleasure,  and  I  will 
let  the  fellows  know  I  am  the  inexperienced  sports- 


man." 


(C 


That  is  mighty  generous  in  you,"  said  Charles, 
laughing  merrily. 

''  Oh,  no,  there  is  no  generosity  in  merely  telling 
the  truth,  my  young  friend." 

"  AYell  —  yes  —  sometimes,"  said  Charles,  eyeing 
Jameston  so  quizzically  that  the  latter  was  constrained 
to  ask: 

"  Under  what  circumstances  ?  " 


96  ver:n'al  dune 

Charles  laughed.  "  Oh,  it's  no  matter.  I'm 
—  I  am  afraid  yon  will  think  me  impertinent." 

"  'No,  ont  with  it." 

"  You  are  here  to  see  Miss  Jannette  ?  " 

"  Am  I  poaching  ?  "  asked  Jameston,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  no;  I  am  just  her  age.  She  will  be  sure  to 
marry  before  I  get  through  college,  but  I  like  her 
better  than  anv  srirl  I  know." 

"  Well,  Launders,  I  admire  her  too.  I  think  the 
entire  famity  the  most  agreeable  I  ever  visited." 

Here  the  horn  was  sounded  to  recall  the  dogs.  The 
riders  quickened  their  pace  and  soon  joined  the 
party,  which  had  halted,  the  question  being  whether 
they  should  return  the  way  they  had  come  or  cut 
through  a  stretch  of  woods.  William  thought  the 
way  too  rugged  for  the  girls,  so  they  turned  their 
horses  homeward  in  a  brisk  canter,  all  agreeing  that 
it  had  been  a  most  delightful  chase,  notwithstanding 
the  fox  had  outwitted  them. 

General  Daniel  declared  the  game  worthy  the 
pursuers. 

When  they  reached  home  the  family  were  all  up 
and  out  to  gi^eet  them.  Miss  Jane  Semloh  and  Laura 
Kerba,  when  they  heard  the  dogs  and  horns  so  near, 
as  it  were,  coming  back  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets, 
had  run  out  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  chase. 

Glo^dng  accounts  were  given  of  an  unusually  ex- 
citing race. 

"  Strange,"  said  William,  "  none  of  us  saw  the 
fox." 


VEEN^AL  DUl^E  97 

"  You  are  mistaken ;  I  saw  him/'  said  Jameston, 
smiling. 

^'  Why  in  the  name  of  wonder  did  you  not  keep 
up  with  him  ?  Where  were  the  dogs  ?  Charles, 
where  were  you  ?  " 

''  Oh,  the  fox  saw  Charles/'  replied  Jameston, 
with  a  comic  air  of  having  given  all  the  information 
necessary,  which  not  only  amused  the  ladies,  but  was 
sufficient  excuse  for  them. 

But  not  so  with  the  huntsmen.  They  pressed  the 
matter  with  such  spirit  that  Jameston  said,  ^^  Miss 
Jannette,  knowing  your  sympathy  for  old  Reynard, 
Launders  and  I  would  not  betray  him." 

i\.mid  the  impatient  exclamations  of  the  gentlemen, 
Jannette  ran  forward,  giving  a  hand  to  each  of  her 
abettors. 

^'  You  dear,  good  fellows !  "  she  exclaimed  delight- 
edly ;  "  that  is  what  I  call  being  clever.  The  others 
may  think  it  a  boasting  matter  to  overrun  one  poor 
lone  fox,  but  see  how  little  skill  it  shows  compared 
with  you  two  outwitting  the  hunting  party  and  a 
pack  of  dogs.     That  is  something  to  talk  about." 

"  Great  heavens !  "  ejaculated  Peter  Brown.  "  She 
puts  us  along  with  the  dogs." 

"  l^ever  fear,"  said  Hyman,  "  you  will  hear  it 
talked  of  to  your  regret,  young  gentleman." 

^'  I  did  not  know  before,"  said  Jannette,  "  that  one 
could  help  the  fox  by  going  with  the  hunters,  or  I 
would  have  gone." 

"  Then,"  replied  Jameston,  "  you  must  go  with  us 


98  VEK]N'AL  DUNE 

next  time,  and  we  will  give  Sir  Reynard  all  the  as- 
sistance we  can." 

"And,  General/'  she  said,  with  entrapping  de- 
mureness,  "  you  will  lend  me  your  swiftest  horse." 

"  Certainly,  certainly." 

"  And  Fleet  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  he  answered,  with  ready 
gallantry-'. 

"  And,"  she  slyly  added,  "  your  horn  ?  " 

"  Bless  you,  dear,  yes,  yes." 

"  And  Charles  shall  teach  me  all  the  sight  signals, 
and  I  will  blow  when  I  don't  see  him." 

"  You  will  have  to  be  unusually  long  winded  if 
the  chase  is  after  the  order  of  to-day,"  declared  Hy- 
man. 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  her  not  succeeding,"  said 
Jameston,  laughing,  "  for  in  the  outstart  she  leaves 
your  general  Jiors  de  combat.'' 

Breakfast  was  announced.  The  girls  ran  off  to 
remove  their  riding  habits  and  readjust  their  toilets. 
It  was  a  happy  party  gathered  around  the  well-spread 
table,  and  if  mirth  is  good  for  the  digestion  as  an 
active  pepsin,  it  abounded  at  this  board  of  good 
cheer.  The  huntsmen  chaffed  Jameston  and  Laun- 
ders unmercifully,  but  Jannette's  unaffected  pleasure 
at  the  escape  of  the  fox  and  unembarrassed  humane 
comradeship  overbalanced  the  sportsmen's  sarcasm. 
The  unusual  termination  of  the  chase  was  attended 
with  more  comment  than  the  capture  of  the  brush 
would  have  caused. 


VEEJSTAL  DUNE  99 

General  Daniel  said,  "  I  call  this  morning's  affair 
^  heart  among  hunters/  "  directing  his  winks  and 
nods  at  Jameston  and  Launders.  '^  It  is  a  travesty 
on  '  honor  among  thieves.'  You  may  look  out  for 
the  Raleigh  Register.  I  intend  to  give  Gales  an  ac- 
count of  it,  not  forgetting  that  the  handsome  Miss 

Laura  K of  Chapel  Hill,  in  her  eagerness  to 

learn  how  the  fox  escaped,  actually  jeopardized  the 
Colonel's  fence  hy  imposing  upon  it  her  weight  of 
loveliness." 

As  Miss  Laura  was  exceedingly  plump,  and  as 
sweet-natured  as  she  was  handsome,  with  an  amused 
laugh  she  replied: 

^'  The  justice  of  your  compliment.  General,  is  quite 
perceptible,  but  I  insist  that  Jannette  must  share  my 
publicity  —  her  weight  of  influence  entitles  her  to 
it." 

When  the  amusement  of  this  little  by-play  of  words 
subsided,  the  General  continued :  "  Gales  is  a  ready 
writer  —  a  very  fine  writer.  He  will  elaborate  the 
thing ;  you  have  not  heard  the  last  of  it." 

''  There  seems  to  be  no  end  to  it,"  said  Charles, 
with  affected  sarcasm. 

"  It  is  to  be  continued  from  one  hirnt  to  the 
other,"  said  Boyden. 

'^  General,"  said  Ada,  ^'  if  you  do  not  close  your  ar- 
ticle with  '  finis '  out  of  consideration  for  your  read- 
ers, let  it  be  at  least  '  Commencement  de  la  fin/  " 
and  with  continued  bantering  they  left  the  table. 

Jannette  sat  down  by  the  General,  and  turned  to 


100  VEENAL  DUNE 

him  lier  pretty  smiling  face,  with  a  hewitching  air 
of  interest,  saying:  "General,  as  we  grow  older  in 
years  and  knowledge,  don't  you  think  we  ought  to 
improve  in  all  things,  hunting  with  the  rest  ? " 
''  Now  will  everybody  just  hear  this  child  ?  " 
"  Miss  Jannette  has  the  advantage,  General,"  said 
Jameston,  who  had  been  listening  with  interest.  "  I 
have  no  doubt  if  such  a  humane  idea  was  well  venti- 
lated, it  would  eventually  be  the  basis  for  some  such 
movement."  And  thus  each  kept  a  good-natured 
vantage  gTOund  which  encouraged  discussion. 

It  is  worthy  of  mention  here,  and  may  be  gratify- 
ing to  true  sportsmen  who  are  fond  of  their  dogs, 
and  whose  knowledge  of  them  goes  far  to  authenti- 
cate their  wonderful  sagacity  —  that  when  General 
Daniel  returned  to  his  bachelor  quarters  he  found 
that  his  dog  Fleet  was  in  the  room  where  he  had  left 
him,  his  nose  was  partly  through  the  noose  with 
which  he  had  been  tied,  and  his  appearance  indica- 
ting in  every  particular  a  morning  hunt.  There 
could  be  no  doubt  that  the  dog,  hearing  the  horn  in 
the  distance,  slipped  the  carelessly  tied  knot  and  made 
his  escape  through  the  window.  During  the  hunt 
he  kept  out  of  sight  of  his  master,  and  instead  of  fol- 
lowing him  after  the  hunt,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
doing,  he  returned  to  his  post  and  made  an  effort  to 
halter  himself. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  Party  iis"  the  First   Quarter  of  the  ISTine- 

TEE^'TH  Century 

It  is  a  balmy  night  in  May,  with  an  atmosphere 
not  only  resplendent  in  the  silvery  sheen  of  an  nn- 
clouded  moon,  but  redolent  with  odors  from  flower- 
ing trees  and  vines,  blown  from  the  adjacent  wood. 
It  is  a  night  favorable  indeed  to  the  guests  en  route 
for  and  continually  arriving  at  Vernal-Dune.  Here 
the  fragrance  and  light  reached  its  climax,  for  the 
flower  garden  gave  forth  its  odors  dew  distilled  with 
liberal  power,  and  streams  of  light  from  numerous 
windows  and  doors  proclaimed  the  genial  host  and 
hostess  ^^  At  Home." 

The  maidens  with  their  joyous  faces  and  merry 

laughter  flitted  about  in  white  muslin  and  colored 

ribbons.     The   older  belles   with  modest   mien   and 

sprightly  intelligence  made  no  special  dehut,  to  pose 

for  admiration  or  to  advertise  their  charms,  but  like 

their  younger  sisters  had  been  nourished  and  grown 

in  the  protected  conservatory  of  a  Southern  home 

and  its  best  society.     With  all  the  innocence,  beauty, 

and  grace  of  the  opening  bud  they  had  gTadually 

evolved  into  such  stages  of  perfect  bloom  that  the 

101 


10^  VEKISTAL  DUNE 

gentlemen  of  that  era  never  knew  when  their  admira- 
tion or  adoration  commenced.  It  grew  with  their 
growth  and  strengthened  with  their  strength,  and  was 
not  so  subject  to  frost-nips  as  hot-house  developments 
of  colder  climes. 

The  vivacious  strains  of  the  fiddle  and  the  occa- 
sional emphasis  of  pirouetting  pumps  added  to  the 
evidence  that  a  very  happy  party  was  having  a  good 
time.  ]^aturally  in  so  large  a  company  they  were 
variously  entertained.  The  lovers  had  delightful 
iete-a-tetes  in  the  moonlit  porch  and  cosy  nooks ;  oth- 
ers found  much  pleasure  in  the  music,  where  the 
harp,  piano  and  violin  made  very  interesting  music 
to  amateur  participants.  Indeed,  it  was  a  concord 
of  sweet  sounds,  and  often  deservedly  encored. 

Mr.  Jameston  had  been  introduced  to  many  pretty 
.  girls.  He  had  been  unusually  brilliant  in  conver- 
sation, but  Jannette  noticed  that  he  had  not  danced 
at  all,  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  that  little  lady 
had  expected  several  solicitations,  at  least  from  that 
gentleman.  When  he  had  visited  them  before  she 
had  danced  with  him  often,  and  remembered  his  be- 
ing unusually  graceful.  She  had  also  heard  her 
brother  speak  of  William's  dancing  as  being  worthy 
of  iiigh  praise.  She  had,  however,  too  much  self- 
respect  to  seem  to  notice  his  indifference,  as  it  ap- 
peared to  her,  and  it  was  also  natural  that  as  he  did 
not  seek  her  she  with  maidenlv  reserve  almost  in- 
voluntarily  avoided  him.  As  the  evening  wore  on, 
more  than  once  she  passed  him  on  her  way  to  the 


vek:n'al  dune  103 

dancing  room  with  some  gay  partner.  Once  when 
she  returned  to  the  parlor,  he  was  standing  apart 
from  the  rest  of  the  company,  and  arrested  her  atten- 
tion hy  asking  how  she  was  enjoying  herself. 

With  her  hand  still  resting  on  the  arm  of  Charles 
Launders  she  replied,  ''  I  am  having  a  delightful 
time.  But  have  you  sounded  the  depths  of  all  these 
fair  conversationalists  that  you  pose  in  such  dignified 
silence  ?  " 

'^  Don't  vou  dance?"  asked  Charles.  "I  find 
much  solid  comfort  in  landing  on  my  feet  when  my 
head  gives  out ;  in  fact,  I  am  like  a  cork-headed  acro- 
bat. You  may  pull  me  down  by  the  ear  for  a  while, 
but  very  naturally  my  feet  take  to  the  floor." 

"  Miss  Jannette,  I  am  sure  you  had  better  rest  a 
while,"  said  Jameston,  placing  a  chair  for  her,  "  and 
Charles,  we  will  release  your  ear.  That  pretty  lady 
over  there  in  pink  will,  I  am  quite  certain,  make  a 
charming  partner." 

"  Whew !  "  whistled  Charles.  "  If  such  a  hint 
as  that  doesn't  knock  down  it  will  at  least  scatter." 
And  laughing  good-naturedly  he  walked  off. 

Jameston  sat  down  by  Jannette,  saying,  "  You  have 
passed  your  time  so  agreeably,  my  not  dancing  may 
have  escaped  your  notice." 

"  I  am  real  sorry,  Mr.  Jameston,"  she  said  quickly, 
"  but  I  thought  of  course  that  brother  William  had 
introduced  you  to  the  strangers,  and  I  am  sure  you 
knew  quite  a  number  of  ladies,  anyway." 


104  yEEISrAL  DUNE 

"  I  am  not  entering  the  omission  as  a  complaint, 
Miss  Jannette,  but  as  an  apology." 

"  Oh,  you  need  not,"  she  replied  lightly,  "  for  really 
there  are  more  dancers  than  dances." 

''  I  did  not  think  for  a  moment  that  I  had  caused 
a  vacancy  that  could  not  be  filled, —  what  I  meant 
was,  that  as  a  gTiest  would  my  not  dancing  be  consid- 
ered a  breach  of  etiquette,  and  would  not  my  fair 
friend  have  cause  to  condemn  my  seeming  indiffer- 
ence to  avail  myself  of  the  honor  and  pleasure  to 
which  each  guest  is  privileged  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Jannette  pleasantly,  "  there  is 
nothing  compulsory  about  our  dancing  etiquette  — 
at  least,  so  far  as  choosing  partners  is  concerned.  I 
have  refused  to  dance  with  several  myself."  She 
did  not  tell  him  that  she  had  kept  these  dances  for 
him,  but  just  at  that  moment  her  brother  William 
joined  them. 

"  Ah,  here  you  are.  T  made  Jannette  keep  several 
dances  for  you,  William,  knowing  that  you  not  only 
liked  dancing,  but  a  good  partner  also." 

A  rich  glow  suffused  William  Jameston's  face,  but 
the  clear  blue  eyes  looked  steadily  into  those  of  his 
friend.  He  said  without  haste  or  hesitancy,  "  You 
know,  William,  I  told  you  I  had  joined  the  church; 
I  have  not  danced  since  then." 

"  But  surely  that  need  not  keep  you  from  dancing 
here  —  with  only  a  party  of  friends."  Then  he 
added  quickly,  "  But  it  is  all  right,  William,  if  you 


ii 


YEENAL  DUNE  105 

are  enjoying  yourself.  I  leave  you  in  Jannette's 
hands/'  and  lie  crossed  the  room  to  claim  the  hand 
of  Miss  Anne  Kerba  for  the  set  forming. 

^'  Do  you  think  it  a  sin  to  dance  ?  "  asked  Jan- 
nette. 

^'  No,"  he  replied.  "  Under  some  circumstances 
I  think  dancing  an  innocent  and  appropriate  way  of 
varying  the  amusement,  when  happy,  light-hearted 
friends  are  assembled;  and  not  to  avail  myself  of 
those  you  kindly  reserved  for  me  is  a  temptation  re- 
quiring considerable  strength  to  resist.'' 

Oh,  don't  mention  it,"  said  Jannette  hurriedly. 
It  was  merely  brother  William's  suggestion,  and," 
smiling  archly,  ^'  I  don't  always  follow  them." 

'^  At  any  rate,  to  find  you  had  no  dance  to  give  me 
does  not  lessen  my  seeming  negligence  in  not  solicit- 
ing that  honor,  and  whether  you  would  or  would  not 
have  given  me  that  pleasure,"  he  said  gently,  "  I  had 
rather  you  understood  my  position  in  regard  to  it. 
When  one  thinks  seriously  of  life  and  death,  in  which 
the  old  and  young,  the  rich  and  poor,  must  all  take 
their  part,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  living  one's 
life  involves  a  very  gTcat  responsibility,  and  without 
being  morbid  we  should  consider  its  importance. 
Dancing  does  not  induce  serious  thought." 

"  But,"  argued  Jannette,  "  there  are  people  who 
after  deep  and  serious  thought,  dance  as  a  rest  for  the 
mind,  it  being  a  pleasant  recreation,  and  healthful 
exercise.  I  remember  at  the  Legislators'  ball  how 
many  elderly,    dignified   gentlemen   danced.     They 


106  VEEE^AL  DUI^E 

spoke  of  the  exercise  being  very  pleasant  after  tlie 
mental  strain  of  the  session." 

"  That  may  be  true  in  some  cases.  They  had  been 
concentrating  their  minds  upon  the  enactment  of  cer- 
tain laws  during  a  given  time  and  under  special  lim- 
itations, and  when  they  got  through  there  was  an 
end  of  it ;  besides,  it  was  not  done  on  one  individual 
responsibility,  but  as  a  body,  and  it  was  expected  to 
be  revised  or  abolished  the  next  session,  if  not  ex^ 
pedient.  But  there  are  other  laws  to  be  studied 
and  filed  for  enactment  of  more  importance  than 
those  made  by  earthly  legislators.  And  when  one 
feels  called  to  that  work,  and  studies  the  subject, 
knowing  these  laws  are  for  all  time,  and  with  all 
possible  study,  the  focus  of  mental  concentration  is 
not  attained  this  side  of  the  grave,  and  each  legis- 
lator or  minister,"  he  added  softly,  "  is  responsible 
individually  for  himself  and  for  the  people ;  the  serv- 
ice is  for  life.  You  see  it  is  a  responsibility  that 
cannot  be  lightly  carried,  nor  can  it  ever  be  danced 
off." 

Mr.  Kerba  interrupted  them,  requesting  Jannette 
to  favor  him  as  his  partner  in  the  next  cotillion. 

She,  however,  gently  remarked :  "  This  is  a  dance 
I  reserved  for  Mr.  Jameston,  and  we  are  going  to 
tall^  it  out."  Of  course  Mr.  Kerba  excused  her  and 
went  in  search  of  another  partner. 

Mr.  Jameston  said  gratefully,  "  That  is  certainly 
kind ;  I  feel  now  that  you  have  accepted  my  excuses 
and  apologies." 


YEEl^AL  DUNE  107 

'^  Ob,  don't  speak  of  apologizing.  I  think  it  real 
good  in  you  not  to  dance,  even  when  you  don't  think 
it  a  sm. 

"  N^ot  good,"  he  gently  corrected ;  "  but  you  know 
there  are  older  and  wiser  heads  than  mine  who  have 
studied  the  subject;  they  have  put  dancing  under  a 
ban.  If  any  light  recreations  are  necessary  for  the 
health  of  body  and  mind,  I  don't  see  why  dancing 
should  be  excluded  as  especially  worldly.  I  think 
if  it  had  not  been  proscribed,  as  young  people  grow 
up  and  put  away  childish  things  that  in  proportion 
as  the  mind  matured  the  frivolities  of  youth  —  dan- 
cing with  the  rest  —  would  become  less  fascinating. 
I  know  that  some  people  are  of  such  light-hearted 
temperaments  they  seem  never  to  mature.  Their 
every  thought  and  movement  is  the  effervescence  of 
gay  spirits,  while  others  are  weighted  do'wn  by  a  sense 
of  responsibility  —  their  natural  temperament  being 
too  heavy  to  admit  of  any  capering  around.  Others 
lean  towards  games  requiring  thought,  and  often  the 
movers  almost  become  the  combatants." 

Jannette  laughed.  "  You  are  thinking  of  Cousin 
Henry's  game  of  chess." 

"  Oh,  I  have  seen  much  worse  than  that." 

"  Yet  nobody  thinks  there  is  any  harm  in  those 
games." 

^^  It  is  a  process  of  mind  development,"  he  said, 
smiling. 

"  Especially   that   of   combat iveness,"    she    added 

slyly. 


1081  VERNAL  DUNE 

William  now  advanced,  saving  under  his  breath, 
"  Jannette,  for  goodness'  sake  dance  with  Strong.  No 
one  else  can  pnll  him  through  without  demoralizing 
the  entire  quadrille.  He  is  like  a  true  nine-pin  ball 
—  he  knocks  every  pin  on  the  £oor." 

^'  What  an  omnifarious  dancer  I  must  be,"  she 
said,  shrugging  her  pretty  white  shoulders.  "  I  am 
assigned  to  take  charge  of  all  kinds  and  conditions 
of  dancers  —  the  good,  the  bad,  those  that  won't 
dance  and  those  that  will." 

"  Well,"  laughed  William,  "  he  certainly  dances 
with  a  will,  and  a  strong  one  at  that." 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  said  Hyman,  "  what  a  miserable 
pun !  You  will  be  comparing  my  steps  to  the  High- 
land fling  shortly." 

"  It  will  be  shortly,"  laughed  William,  "  and  very 
short  at  that." 

This  provoked  laughter,  as  Dr.  Hyman  was  really 
short  of  stature. 

"  Well,  Miss  Jannette,  this  is  our  dance,"  said  Hy- 
man, offering  his  arm. 

"  See  here,  Hyman,"  interposed  William,  "  you 
don't  place  all  on  the  floor  in  jeopardy  as  Strong 
does." 

'^  You  should  have  said  jumpardy,"  laughed  Jan- 
nette. 

"  I  see  my  gregarious  partner  coming,  so  you  must 
excuse  me." 

"  You  are  certainly  amiable  to  listen  to  all  of 
brother's    suggestions,    however    disagreeable,     and 


yEE:>^AL  DUNE  109 

while  it  would  raise  my  opinion  of  yoiij  were  sncli  a 
thing  possible,  the  knowledge  has  lessened  my  even- 
ing's gratifications.  As  hostess  you  are  impartial  in 
your  kindness.'' 

Mr.  Strong  now  presented  himself,  and  to  the  de- 
light of  the  awkward  fellow  was  accepted. 

^'  Mr.  Jameston,"  said  Jannette,  "  the  time  of  your 
other  dance  engaged  by  proxy  is  at  your  disposal.'' 

His  face  brightened  with  pleasure.  "  May  I  take 
you  into  supper?  I  will  not  then  interrupt  your 
pleasure  of  dancing." 

"  You  are  very  considerate,"  she  replied,  smiling 
as  she  moved  off  with  her  partner. 


CHAPTER  XII 
A  WiLi>iNG  Captive 

The  morning  after  the  party  it  was  late  "before 
any  of  the  inmates  of  Vernal-Dime  made  their  ap- 
pearance, and  not  until  the  dinner  hour  did  the  girls 
descend  to  the  parlor,  and  then  they  were  as  fresh 
and  merry  as  if  they  had  lost  no  beauty  sleep. 

William  Chasseur  said  to  Jameston,  "  William,  I 
was  afraid  you  were  having  a  dull  time  last  night, 
your  not  dancing." 

'^  My  friend,  give  yourself  no  concern  on  my  ac- 
count. I  assure  you  I  never  enjoyed  myself  more. 
I  do  not  know  a  better  substitute  for  dancing  than  to 
be  granted  a  quiet  talk  with  a  gTaceful  partner.  In- 
deed, William,  my  entire  stay  here  has  been  delight- 
ful. I  can  understand  why  Euripides  should  have 
prolonged  his  visit  at  the  Court  of  Archelaus  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  and  if  you  don't  want  history  to  re- 
peat itself  in  the  way  of  appreciated  hospitality  you 
had  better  change  your  tactics.  I  am  in  a  silken  web 
of  pleasure  and  find  the  situation  so  enjoyable  that  I 
am  afraid  to  move  lest  I  break  it  and  am  set  at  lib- 
erty.'' 

''  You  know,"  said  William,  '^  you  have  nothing  in 

the  world  to  make  your  going  imperative." 

"  Besides,"  said  Semloh,  ^^  you  really  must  go  with 

110 


vee:n'al  dune  hi 

my  hunting  party.  We  are  going  down  to  my  place 
in  a  few  days." 

"  How  long  will  you  be  gone  ?  "  inquired  James- 
ton. 

"  Until  we  tire  of  the  sport." 

"  If  I  go  home  it  may  be  some  time  before  I  can 
come  again.  If  I  go  to  Sampson,  I  can  return  in  a 
short  while.     Gentlemen,  I  will  go  to  Sampson !  " 

This  was  said  with  so  much  droll  sincerity  that 
everybody  laughed  and  seemed  pleased  at  his  de- 
cision. 

Jameston  had  his  back  to  the  door  and  did  not  see 
Colonel  Chasseur,  who  entered  in  time  to  hear  his 
remarks. 

'^  That  is  right,  Jameston ;  you  are  a  guest  after 
my  own  heart,"  he  said  cordially. 

Henry  Semloh  was  teasing  Jannette  by  saying  in 
an  undertone,  ^^  I  declare  Uncle  Theo  has  made  a  mis- 
take. I  say  a  guest  after  Ms  heart!  He  should 
have  said  a  guest  after  Jannette' s  heart.  I  must  cor- 
rect such  a  palpable  error." 

He  made  a  move  as  though  he  would  make  the 
correction. 

Jannette's  efforts  to  prevent  such  a  proceeding  got 
them  into  such  a  cousinly  romp  that  the  rest  of  the 
company  became  interested.  Jannette  had  seized  a 
pair  of  bellows  from  the  hearth  and  was  giving  him 
the  benefit  of  an  opposition  current,  which  he  evaded 
in  such  an  active  manner  as  to  keep  her  busy  in  ap- 
plying the  air  bath. 


112  VEEI^AL  DUNE 

Mr.  Jameston  came  up  and,  catching  Semloh  by 
the  arms,  said,  laughing:  "If  yon  need  assistance, 
Miss  Jannette,  I  am  at  your  sei'vice." 

"  That  just  goes  to  prove  what  I  was  going  to  tell 
you,  Jameston." 

Jannette,  throwing  do\vn  the  bellows,  ran  from  the 
room. 

"  You  know  it's  the  truth,"  Henry  said,  laughing. 
"  That's  why  you  can't  face  the  music !  Jameston, 
you  are  the  only  one  I  can  tease  her  about."  Laugh- 
ing, as  if  he  had  the  best  of  the  joke,  he  replaced  the 
bellows. 

Jameston  found  any  little  incident  that  associated 
him  with  Jannette  extremely  pleasant. 

When  Jannette  again  made  her  appearance  no  ves- 
tige of  the  morning's  embarrassment  was  visible. 
So  perfectly  innocent  was  her  demeanor,  that  the  clue 
to  the  joke  w^ould  have  been  lost  had  not  William 
Jameston  been  especially  interested  on  that  point. 
So  at  the  first  opportunity  he  said : 

"  Miss  Jannette,  I  am  curious  to  know  the  cause  of 
your  attack  upon  Semloh  this  morning." 

There  was  the  faintest  rise  of  color  and  a  flicker 
of  a  smile  as  Jannette  replied: 

"  I  thought  that  curiosity  was  one  of  woman's 
frailties." 

"  Perhaps  that  may  have  been  some  old  cynic's 
opinion.  I  do  not  belong  to  that  class  of  philos- 
ophers. If  Cupid  had  perforated  his  heart,  as  he 
has  mine,   he  would   arrogate  to  himself  sufficient 


VEEKAL  DUNE  .  113 

curiosity  to  look  into  every  question  bearing  upon 
the  case,  and  that  with  interest  too." 

^'  Well,  really,  Mr.  Jameston,  that  seems  a  needless 
confession,  for  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  this 
case.  It  is  entirely  between  Cousin  Henry  and  my- 
self." 

Jameston  smiled.  "  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  Sem- 
loh  gave  me  to  understand  that  I  was  in  some  way 
connected  with  it." 

^^  That  was  only  some  of  his  nonsense." 

"  Why  did  you  object  to  my  knowing  it  1 "  he  asked 
quizzically. 

"  Well,  I  know  one  dislikes  to  be  made  conspicu- 
ous, especially  through  a  mistake.  It  was  to  shield 
you." 

"  I  thought  you  said  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it," 
he  remarked  slyly. 

"  You  had  not  truly.  There  is  where  the  mistake 
comes  in.  Cousin  Henry  would  make  it  appear  that 
you  had." 

"  I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  persistency,  Miss 
Jannette,  but  really  this  matter  grows  more  and  more 
interesting.  Suppose  you  state  the  case  fully  and 
let  me  decide  what  share  I  have  in  it,  or  let  me  call 
Semloh  and  settle  the  question." 

"Oh,  pray  don't  start  Cousin  Henry  again,"  she 
exclaimed  deprecatingly. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  making  light  of  a  possible 
claim  of  mine,  that  I  would  be  glad  to  have  recog- 
nized." 


114  YEEN'AL  DU:NtE 

Jannette  smiled  a  little  shyly,  shaking  her  head,  "  I 
think  not." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  not  satisfy  my  curiosity,  I  have 
a  clue." 

^'  How  much  ?  "  she  asked,  laughing. 

"  Semloh  said  he  was  teasing  you  ahout  me." 
His  clear  blue  eyes  looking  steadily  into  hers. 
"  Miss  Jannette,  that  I  love  you  is  no  longer  a  secret. 
Have  vou  not  read  it,  too  ?  " 

This  announcement,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with 
emotion,  was  so  sudden  after  the  gay  bantering  pre- 
viously engaged  in,  that  Jannette's  surprise  was 
clearly  manifested  in  the  quick  look  of  inquiry. 
Then  with  a  consciousness  of  its  full  import,  so  ear- 
nestly spoken,  a  pretty  glow  warmed  her  fair  face 
and  the  sweet  blue  eves  evaded  his. 

"  Mr.  Jameston,  I  am  sorry  if  you  have  let  Cousin 
Henry  precipitate  you  into  such  an  acknowledg- 
ment — "  she  said,  with  some  hesitation. 

'^  I  assure  you  Cousin  Henry  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  Your  father  will  tell  you,  with  his  permis- 
sion I  have  been  impatiently  waiting  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  speak  of  my  love.  We  discussed  your 
youth,  your  education.  I  asked  only  that  I  might 
make  the  confession  that  I  love  you,  and  seek  your 
love  in  return,  and  have  it  understood  that  when  I 
come  again  it  will  be  as  a  suitor  for  your  hand.  You 
will  have  graduated  then,  and  I  will  have  decided 
upon  my  lif  ework.     May  I  hope  that  during  that  time 


vee:n^al  duivte  115 

you  will  think  favorably  of  my  aspirations?  Can 
you  give  me  any  encouragement  ?  " 

^^  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Jameston,  that  we  all  think  so 
highly  of  you  we  will  be  glad  of  your  return  at  any 
time/'  she  said  evasively. 

He  smiled.  "  A  half  hour  ago  I  would  have  been 
overjoyed  to  hear  you  say  that,  but  now  it  does  not 
satisfy  me  entirely.  I  am  anxious  to  know  the  de- 
gree of  my  standing  in  your  estimation  —  the  amount 
of  interest  you  will  take  in  my  return." 

He  was  watching  the  deepening  color,  the  soft 
light  in  the  half-veiled  eyes,  the  dimple  scarcely 
seen  before  it  was  gone. 

"  Will  you  care  especially  to  have  me  come  ? ''  he 
asked  in  winning  manner,  holding  out  his  hand  as  if 
to  make  the  answer  easier  for  her. 

Without  further  hesitation  Jannette  placed  her 
hand  in  that  of  his. 

He  had  time  only  for  a  gentle  pressure,  for  ap- 
proaching footsteps  and  merry  tones  reminded  them 
that  they  were  not  the  only  occupants  of  the  house. 


CHAPTEE  XIII 

A  Pllgeimage  to  a  Shrine 

The  street  known  as  Hillsboro,  running  west  from 
the  capitol,  after  passing  the  line  of  corporation, 
continued  its  route  as  a  public  road,  with  residences 
along  the  way  on  either  side,  more  thickly  stationed 
near  the  city,  the  distance  apart  being  regulated  by 
the  dimensions  of  the  owners'  tracts.  .  The  people 
occupying  some  of  these  villas  were  wealthy,  in  many 
instances  their  income  accruing  from  plantations 
elsewhere. 

Gentlemen  when  building  their  dwelling  houses  on 
their  plantations  generally  considered  the  advantage 
or  feasibility  of  being  within  convenient  distance  of 
others  on  adjacent  places.  Colonel  Chasseur's  dwell- 
ing was  situated  in  a  beautiful  grove,  refreshingly 
elevated  and  luxuriating  in  a  picturesque,  rocked 
spring.  This  fact,  with  perennial  mosses  and  ferns 
had  suggested  its  name,  which  the  position  and  hospi- 
tality of  the  family  fixed  permanently  through  the 
passing  of  many  generations. 

This  estate  extended  many  miles  along  the  road 

on  both  sides,  and  in  a  broad  circle  swept  around  and 

even  crossed  the  south  road  miles  from  the  city.     It 

116 


yEENAL  DUI^E  117 

consisted  in  vast  low  grounds  of  most  productive  soil, 
valuable  water  power,  and  great  forests  of  timber. 
Yet  the  dwelling  house  was  not  far  from  the  public 
road,  and  was  in  convenient  distance  both  in  rela- 
tion to  the  neighboring  houses  and  the  city.  A  party 
of  young  people  at  any  one  point  would  often  make  a 
pedestrian  trip  through  the  forest  to  a  neighbor's. 
Exploring  the  woods  for  nuts,  berries,  and  some 
special  floral  specimen  as  a  trophy  of  its  season  was 
sufiicient  inducement  to  start  them,  and  when  did 
youth  ever  fail  to  get  its  full  worth  out  of  every  expe- 
dition? What  are  bruised  toes,  torn  clothes,  steep 
hills,  or  swift  creeks,  when  young  blood  runs  joy- 
ously, merry  bright  eyes  sparkle,  light  dancing  feet 
are  sure,  and  lithe  figures  are  borne  involuntarily 
along  on  youth's  buoyant  wings  ? 

It  was  just  such  a  party  that  left  the  Academy 
Friday  afternoon.  Colonel  Chasseur's  carriage  had 
carried  home  the  larger  girls  with  their  companions, 
leaving  Louise  and  Mary  Shotwell  at  Mr.  Boyden's, 
who  in  company  with  Kate  and  Ann  Owen  Camdon 
would  shorten  the  way  to  Colonel  Chasseur's  by  going 
through  the  woods. 

The  children  thus  left  concluded  to  explore  the 
way  for  bay  flowers,  and  in  that  quest  they  almost 
unconsciously  extended  their  range,  and  were  soon 
skirting  the  public  road.  As  usual  ISTancy,  a  negro 
girl,  was  sent  with  them  as  protector  and  guide.  She 
told  them  of  a  tree  gTowing  on  "  old  Mars  Taylor's 
land  "  a  "  grandsire  graybeard." 


118  YEEI^AL  DUNE 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  rural  districts  know 
this  graceful  tree,  how  its  long  sweeping  boughs 
droop  low  with  the  beautiful  effect  of  a  weeping  wil- 
low where  each  green  leaf  may  be  supposed  to  have 
bloomed  into  a  frond  of  pure  white. 

E'ancy  said  ^'  old  Mars  Taylor's  ain't  but  a  leetle 
ways  off,  and  de  '  grancher  graybeard '  a  leetle  f ud- 
der on." 

All  agreed  to  take  the  trip,  the  way  being  shortened 
by  Nancy's  interesting  antics  and  conversation. 
^'  Chillun,  dare's  a  berrin  grown  nigh  de  tree;  'tain't 
like  no  berrin  grown  you  all  ebber  see;  hit's  a  vort 
grave." 

ISTow  as  the  children  could  form  no  idea  of  what  a 
"  vort  grave "  was,  curiosity  on  that  point  added 
piquancy  to  the  enterprise,  so  they  tripped  along  with 
evident  enjoyment  of  the  walk. 

It  seems  that  Judge  Taylor,  being  a  Catholic,  had 
selected  a  spot  on  his  place,  had  had  it  consecrated, 
and  a  vault  prepared.  If  it  had  ever  been  used  at 
all,  it  must  have  served  only  as  a  temporary  resting 
place  for  the  dead,  for  as  years  passed  on  it 
showed  signs  of  decay.  With  every  wind  the  door 
creaked  weirdly  on  its  loosened  hinges,  the  lichens 
and  mosses  of  ages  had  crept  in  and  around  it,  until 
it  had  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  huge  grave  that 
had  been  left  open  at  one  end  for  the  convenience  of 
its  occupant,  and  had  a  grewsome  air  of  inclosed  and 
fostered  emptiness  —  an  earthly  chrysalis  from  which 


YEE^^AL  DUNE  119 

a  spirit  had  but  just  emerged,  and  miglit  still  be 
hovering  near. 

As  the  party  came  in  sight  of  the  vault  to  them  the 
atmosphere  was  filled  with  spooks. 

Xancy  was  saying,  ^^  Dey  do  say  old  Mars  Taylor 
wan't  berried." 

'^  Wan't  buried !  "  echoed  the  children  in  chorus. 

"  1^0,"  continued  jSTancy,  "  'kaze  he  was  drowned, 
and  his  ha'nt  comes  back  ever  w^onst  in  er  while  ter 
see  if  ennybody  is  got  his  vort." 

'^  Oh,  do  pray  let's  go  back,"  whispered  Mary. 
"  He'll  think  we  have  come  after  it." 

"  Dar  de  old  graybeard  now,"  exclaimed  iNTancy, 
her  staccato  enunciation  causing  the  children  to 
scamper  off  toward  the  road  with  loud  screams.  Of 
course  that  was  what  Nancy  wanted  them  to  do,  but 
she  ran  after  them,  hallooing  to  them  to  stop.  "  I 
don't  know  what  in  de  name  uf  the  Lord  is  ail  yer- 
all;  yer  done  walk  er  mile  ter  see  er  tree,  and  just 
kaze  I  say  dar  it  'tis,  yer  t'ar  off  like  yer  see  de 
werry  debil.  Xow,  if  you  is  giiine  wid  me  say  so, 
and  quit  yer  foolinish." 

This  asperity  on  Nancy's  part  caused  a  halt,  and 
they  finally  retraced  their  steps  slowly. 

"  Why,  Nancy,  we  thought  you  meant  it  was  the 
ha'nt  coming  to  look  for  his  vort."  And  they  all 
laughed  a  shivery  little  laugh,  for  they  were  not 
over  their  scare.  Just  at  that  stage  of  nervous  ex- 
pectancy the  rustle  of  a  leaf,  the  flight  of  a  bird, 


120  yEK:N^AL  DUNE 

the  shadow  of  a  cloud,  shook  their  faith  in  iSTancy's 
protection,  and  nothing  short  of  wild  flight  could 
keep  pace  with  their  demoralized  wits. 

This  little  walk  was  fraught  with  wonder  and  in- 
terest worthy  of  a  greater  pilgrimage;  it  was  ac- 
companied by  varied  emotions,  pleasurable  from  cul- 
tivated incredulity,  and  painful  from  inherited 
superstition.  Xow  they  were  again  in  sight  of  the 
vault.  The  "  Grandsire  graybeard,"  with  its  droop- 
ing white  leaves,  was  forgotten  in  the  awe  of  the 
vault.  A  tangle  of  bamboo  vines  hung  over  it  with 
stiff  rustling  leaves,  and  the  trailing  thorny  tendrils 
growing  near  the  ground  had  crept  out  through  the 
long  gTass,  so  bare  of  leaves  and  wiry,  as  to  appear 
a  trap  for  some  unwary  foot  traveler  hunting  by  the 
^'  burying  ground." 

If  one  of  the  children  stumbled  in  keeping  up  with 
^N^ancy's  long  strides,  the  little  outcry  was  immedi- 
ately suppressed  by  Nancy's  quickly  spoken  disap- 
proval. 

"  Quit  yer  f oolinish  now !  Quit  yer  f oolinish,  if 
youse  giiine  wid  me." 

She  had  paused  a  minute  to  stimulate  their  fear  and 
increase  the  awe  attending  their  nearer  approach; 
then  said  with  a  sigh,  she  intended  for  resignation, 
but  which  smacked  more  of  satisfaction. 

"  Now  we  has  cum  dis  fur  we'll  hav  ter  go  closer 
and  look  at  hit  good." 

"  Yes,"  said  Louise,  "  come  on." 

Mary  said  quite  bravely,  "  I'm  not  afraid." 


VEENAL  DUis^E  121 

"  Xor  me,  neither,"  joined  in  the  others,  too 
scared  to  be  grammatical. 

They  finally  reached  the  desolate  spot.  Nancy, 
like  the  rest  of  her  race,  was  a  firm  believer  in 
"  ha'nts,"  and  had  a  decided  predilection  for  any 
hair-lifting  or  blood-curdling  sights  or  sounds ;  any 
exaggeration  that  would  cause  excitement  was  freely 
indulged  in.  Xothing  pleased  her  more  than  to  see 
a  crowd  of  children,  white  or  black,  scared  out  of 
their  wits  at  something  she  had  seen,  heard,  or  sug- 
gested on  her  own  responsibility.  That  she  had  no 
faith  in  these  suggestions  as  far  as  tangible  develop- 
ments would  work  did  not  prevent  her  getting 
^^  skeered  "  too,  if  "  skeer  "  was  in  the  atmosphere ; 
so  now  she  was  in  her  glory  —  the  leader  of  this 
little  band.  Her  age  and  strength  and  faithful  at- 
tachment made  her  their  staunch  champion;  she 
would  do  anything  for  their  entertainment,  and  be 
equally  entertained,  or  she  would  with  equal  enjoy- 
ment scare  them  to  death  and  be  just  as  "  skeered  " 
as  anybody. 

As  they  neared  the  vault  each  child  had  caught 
hold  of  a  part  of  Xancy's  cotton  frock,  and  with 
round  wide-opened  eyes  took  a  good  look  at  the  un- 
canny place. 

''  It  ain't  no  more  an'  er  cellar,"  said  Xancy,  with 
a  depreciative  snuffle.  ^'  We  could  have  a  vort  at 
Master's  if  he  wanted  hit.  'Tain't  like  er  berryin 
ground  ter  me,  whar  dey  have  er  long  black  korps  ter 
put  in  de  grave  hole,  and  then  kiver  hit  up.     I  likes 


122  vee:n'al  dune 

de  Idverin  it  up,  so  de  ha'nt  can't  git  out.  Shew! 
dis  ain't  nigh  as  good  as  a  berryin  ground  nohow; 
den  dev  allers  sings  solumkolly  chunes." 

!N'ancy  had  taken  the  initiatory  in  conversation 
and  investigation.  She  was  squatting  down  peering 
into  the  interior,  and  familiarity  was  wearing  off, 
to  some  extent,  the  awe  of  the  occasion.  The  little 
girls  had  released  their  hold  on  I^ancy's  dress,  and 
each  peeped  in  on  tiptoe,  and  in  silence.  !Nancy 
itching  to  increase  the  enjoyment  of  the  grewsome 
situation,  said  banteringly : 

"  I  bet  yer  all  dassent  sing  a  berrin'  chune." 

"  I  would  if  I  knew  one,"  said  Kate  Boyden. 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Ann  Owen.  "  xTancy,  you 
sing  one." 

^'  I  dunno  air  one  nuther,"  said  I^ancy  reflectively. 

"  I  know  this  much,"  said  Louise.  "  '  Hark  from 
the  tomb  the  dreadful  sound.'  " 

"  Dat  'ill  do ;  all  j'ine  in,"  said  IN'ancy. 

And  each  little  rogue,  with  dimpling  cheeks,  com- 
menced singing. 

Nancy,  like  all  of  her  race,  had  a  quick  ear  for 
tune,  but  little  for  good  English,  so  she  sang  with 
characteristic  independence,  and  ludicrous  solemnity 
— ^'  Hark  from  de  dome  de  darn  consarn." 

The  song  was  inteiTupted  by  an  unearthly  sound, 
so  sudden  and  terrific,  that  the  very  earth  seemed  to 
shake,  and  something  enwrapt  in  white  flew  forth 
so  swift  in  its  motion  that  the  arc  described  in  its 


VEE^^AL  DUiS^E  123 

passage  from  the  vault  magnified  the  dimensions  of 
its  shadowy  form. 

"  My  Lord,  the  vort  is  busted !  "  was  yelled  by 
ICancy  as  she  jumped  a  yard  high,  knocking  down  two 
of  the  paralyzed  girls. 

In  the  confusion  it  was  never  known  how  they 
got  away  from  the  dreadful  place.  However,  they 
went,  and  stood  not  upon  the  order  of  their  going, 
"  every  one  for  himself,  and  devil  take  the  hinder- 
most,"  and,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  Xancy,  who 
was  the  cause  of  their  trouble,  was  the  last.  She 
veritably  thought  she  was  taken,  for  her  frantic  leap 
landed  her  into  the  thickest  of  the  bamboo  vine,  and 
as  fast  as  she  got  up  she  was  tripped  again ;  and  before 
she  could  tear  herself  away  from  the  briars  and 
spooks  the  children  had  reached  the  open  road  where, 
minus  bonnets,  slippers,  schoolbags,  and  otherwise 
demoralized,  they  sank  down  in  a  woeful  heap  to 
await  further  developments. 

It  seemed  that  Charles  Launders,  with  his  gun  on 
his  shoulder,  had  started  to  Vernal-Dune  through  the 
woods  behind  the  vault.  The  children  did  not  see 
him,  and  it  was  their  scampering  off  before  they 
reached  the  vault  that  apprised  him  of  what  was 
going  on.  There  was  something  so  comical  about 
their  appearance  and  conversation  the  jolly  fellow 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  it  and  waited  to  see  how 
it  would  end.  He  thought  they  would  be  afraid  to 
venture  near  the  place,  but  when  they  not  only  be- 


124  vee:n'al  dui^e 

sieged  the  vault,  but  had  the  temerity  to  sing  a 
dirge,  his  spirit  of  mischief  got  the  upper  hand  of 
him,  and  no  sooner  had  the  last  word  of  the  line 
been  droned  out  in  a  volume  of  lamentation  than  he 
lifted  his  gun  and  fired  one  barrel  after  another 
right  over  their  heads.  After  seeing  their  fright, 
good  fellow  that  he  was,  he  would  have  gone  in  pur- 
suit and  restored  their  lost  wits,  had  it  been  possible, 
but  he  could  no  more  have  followed  them  than  he 
could  have  followed  a  flush  of  partridges;  besides, 
the  ludicrous  aifair  from  beginning  to  end  was  too 
much  for  the  usual  gallantry  of  Charles.  His  sup- 
pressed laughter  ended  in  hilarious  explosions  so 
loud  and  so  long  that  the  frantic  efforts  of  !N'ancy  to 
get  away  were  increased  with  every  fresh  outburst  of 
merriment,  until  the  thoroughly  frightened  negro  fell 
prone  to  the  earth  beside  the  children  screaming,  "  all 
Mars  Tavlor's  dead  folks  is  riz.  I  heard  'em  er- 
shouting,  'case  dey  thought  we  had  fetch  'em  er  nud- 
der  one  of  dey  folks." 

At  this  juncture  and  very  opportunely  Mrs.  Chas- 
seur and  Sarah,  returning  from  the  city,  came  up 
to  the  disconsolate  crowd.  She  dispatched  the  foot- 
man to  collect  the  scattered  property,  and  took  the 
children  home  with  her. 

However  much  !N'ancy's  superstition  had  deterio- 
rated for  the  want  of  ocular  demonstration  prior  to 
this  event,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  ever  after  her  faith 
in  "  ha'nts  "  was  so  strong  it  went  far  to  promote 


ver:n"al  dune  125 

growtli  of  the  superstition  on  the  plantation,  and 
those  who  had  occasion  to  go  near  the  vault  dared 
not  speak  lest  ^'  the  darned  consarn  "  would  fly  out 
—  which  might  have  really  happened,  if  after  its 
flight  the  large  white-breasted  owl  returned  to  its 
haunt. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

iNTECEtEST  OF  THE   CaBINS  11^  THEl  "  GrEAT^HoUSE  " 

"  Ajll  de  whings  of  the  fol'in'  table  is  stretch ! 
Look  out  fer  de  kerrages  of  fine  ladies,  wid  dey 
streamers  a-flying  and  dey  paralaxes  histed!  Look, 
mammy,  dar  dey  come !  " 

^^  Ki,  dar  is  a  monstrous  fine  lot  on  'em,"  said 
Mam  Ailsey,  coming  to  the  door  of  the  cabin  and 
shading  her  aged  eyes  from  the  noonday  sun. 

^^  Yes,  dey  is  a  mighty  fine  lot,  but  none  uv  'em 
can't  git  away  wid  Mars  Theo's  gals.  Den  jest  look 
at  Mars  William ;  nun  uv  'em  comes  a-sparking  is  up 
ter  him." 

"  'Sep  Ginel  Daniel,  mammy ;  he's  highest  uv  'em 
all." 

"  I  ain't  talking  bout  being  jest  high ;  it's  carr'ing 
yerself  wid  manners  like  quality  folks." 

"  Well,  mammy,  dat's  'zackly  how  Miss  Sarah's 
young  gentleman  carries  he-sef,  and  dey  is  fixin  fer 
de  wedden  hand  over  hand  dese  days.  Lisbon's 
g-uine  wid  'em  home,  and,  mammy,  she's  got  more 
fine  new  fixins  —  like  as  she  was  a-goin  ter  git  mar- 
ried too.  She's  even  got  a  white  Siss  muslin  coat, 
wid  flowers  all  over  hit  what  Mis  Ada  giv  her." 

126 


yEE:N'AL  DUXE  127 

"  'Course  she's  guine  ter  be  fixed  all  right.  Our 
white  folks  is  quality,  and  all  dej  has  is  ekul  to  enny- 
body." 

She  sat  doAvn  on  the  doorstep  and  continued  to 
eulogize  her  master's  family  individually  and  col- 
lectively, though  her  audience,  which  was  embodied 
in  Susan,  had  run  back  to  the  "  great  house  "  to  get 
a  peep  at  what  was  going  on. 

Soon  Uncle  Tom  came  in,  and  his  wife  bustled 
around  to  give  him  dinner. 

'^  Tom,  they's  goin  ter  have  the  biggess  sort  ov 
times  up  at  the  great  house." 

"  They  don't  have  nothing  else,"  said  Tom,  swig- 
ging down  a  quart  of  milk  and  biting  half  moons  out 
of  a  hoe  cake.  "  De  Lord  prospers  Mars  Theo,  an 
he  scatters  it  all  ober  the  country  like  de  foremost 
and  de  hindmost  rains.  Ailsey,  ain't  you  got  no 
pie  nor  'lasses  nor  nothing  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ailsey,  with  a  gratified  chuckle,  "  I'se 
allers  got  sumthin',  and  most  generally  'lasses;  but 
I'se  got  pie  ter-day,"  and  with  a  grin  of  pleasure 
she  sat  out  a  large  liberal-looking  pie.  Its  appear- 
ance indicated  that  it  was  not  one  of  Miss  Barbara's 
donations  from  an  overstocked  pantry.  The  "  great 
house  "  brand  was  not  upon  it,  but  what  it  lacked  in 
daintiness  it  made  up  in  quantity,  and  was  one  of 
Aunt  Ailsey's  triumphs  in  culinary  art,  and  it  filled 
the  bill  for  Uncle  Tom's  appreciative  capacity. 

"  Tell  you,  Ailsey,  dat  brackberry  pie  was  good. 
I  ain't  fitten  for  nothen  now  but  to  go  ter  sleep.     I'll 


128  VERNAL  DUNE 

light  my  pipe  and  set  out  under  de  trees  whar  de 
flies  won't  bother  me.''  Scratching  about  in  the 
ashes  with  his  forefinger,  he  resurrected  a  small  coal 
of  fire,  which  he  picked  up  and  dropped  in  his  pipe, 
and  sitting  on  a  stool  in  the  yard  he  leaned  back 
against  a  tree  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  nodding. 

Ailsey,  with  her  box  of  snuff  and  tooth  brush,  re- 
sumed her  seat  on  the  doorstep.  This  was  a  time  of 
rest,  and  was  from  two  to  three  hours,  according  to 
the  early  start  in  the  cool  of  the  morning  and  the 
dry  heat  of  the  day.  The  same  restfulness  was  at 
the  quarters.  Many  of  the  negroes  spent  it  in  mak- 
ing music  on  some  kind  of  instrument,  or  in  games, 
such  as  marbles,  "  mumble  the  peg,"  and  quoits, 
while  those  industriously  inclined  wove  baskets  and 
mats.  The  women  spun  and  wove  for  themselves. 
They  were  all  well  cared  for,  and  what  they  did  off 
hours  and  holidays  was  clear  gain.  Many  of  the 
men  and  boys  had  traps  and  snares  for  catching  wild 
game.  "  Mars  Theo's  "  table  was  a  sure  and  well- 
paying  market  when  they  did  not  choose  the  delicacy 
for  their  own  palate. 

When  the  overseer's  horn  was  blown.  Uncle  Tom 
got  up  and,  after  a  long  stretch,  started  off. 

*^  Tom,"  asked  Ailsey,  "  who  in  de  name  of  de 
Lord  is  dat  a-sidling  along  de  fence  ?  " 

Tom  stopped  and  looked  in  the  direction  indicated, 
with  curiosity,  as  if  a  new  species  had  wandered  on 
the  plantation. 

"  Bress  God  if  I  know,  Ailsey." 


yEENAL  DUXE  '  129 

In  the  meantime  the  object,  an  lill-conditioned 
negro,  was  approaching  them. 

"  Is  yer  saw  enny thing  uv  er  stray  cow  ?  "  he  asked. 

^^  !N'or,"  said  Tom,  "  being  as  how  I  hain't  been 
nowheres  ter  look  f er  none.     Who's  air  rit  ?  " 

"  Billy  Craw's.     He  got  me  ter  hunt  her  fer  him." 

"  Does  yer  b'long  ter  him  ?  " 

"  Xor." 

"  Well  who  does  you  b'long  to  ?  " 

Freedom  was  not  looked  upon  as  a  badge  of  honor. 
The  negro  was  not  inclined  to  mention  what  would 
separate  him  as  a  class  from  his  fellows,  so  the  last 
question  was  answered  in  a  manner  somewhat  ex- 
planatory or  deprecatory. 

"  Who  ?  Me  ?  "  he  asked,  as  if  to  gain  time  for  the 
right  answer.  "  My  ole  marster  sot  my  mammy  free 
fore  I  was  born." 

^'  Er-her !  "  said  Ailsey,  in  a  tone  and  manner  ex- 
pressive of  an  elucidation  of  all  that  had  or  could  be- 
fall the  freedman.  ^'  And  yer  daddy  and  mammy, 
how  does  dey  git  erlong  ?  " 

"  Dey  works  erbout  when  dey  gits  it  ter  do." 

"  My  Lord !  what  dey  do  when  dey's  outen  work  ?  " 
Dey    scuffles    erlong,    en    de    whi'    folks    he'ps 


<( 


'em." 


"  Well,  I  lay  you's  hongry  yersef  this  minit,  er 
trottin'  arter  a  cow  from  one  ean'  uv  town  to  t'other. 
Set  down  on  Tom's  stool  whilst  I  fetch  yer  some 
vittals." 

IN'othing  loath,  the  negro  availed  himself  of  Ail- 


130  VEEITAL  DU:N^E 

sey's  invitation,  and  after  greedily  emptying  the  plate 
he  said: 

"  I'm  mightily  erbleege  ter  yer,"  and  resumed  his 
search  for  the  cow  along  the  public  road. 

Ailsey  watched  him  until  out  of  sight,  and  then 
said,  with  mingled  contempt  and  commiseration: 

^'  I  'clare  'fore  God  I'd  hate  to  be  such  er  poor 
onery  cuss !  " 

"  Who  is  yer  talking  erbout,  Ailsey  ?  " 

Ailsey  turned.  "  Is  dat  you,  Judy  ?  Didn't  yer 
see  him  ? " 

"  'Nor ;  I  hain't  see  nothing  on  God's  yearth  but 
you." 

^'  Well,  Judy,  hit  was  er  poor  free  nigger !  " 

It  may  be  observed  here  that  the  word  "  nigger  " 
did  not  originate  with  the  white  people,  nor  was  it 
intended  as  an  epithet  of  contempt,  as  some  may 
think.  The  word  arose  from  the  negroes'  slack  or  in- 
different way  of  pronouncing  the  name  of  their  own 
race.  Their  pronunciation  was  very  defective,  much 
more  so  than  their  intelligence  warranted.  They 
were  a  happy-go-lucky  people,  and  to  remote  genera- 
tions retained  gestures  and  certain  expressive  sounds 
and  enunciations  inherent  in  the  native  African,  and 
people  who  are  unfamiliar  with  them  can  form  no 
correct  idea  of  their  peculiarities  through  a  written 
interpretation  any  more  than  the  inspection  of  the 
characters  on  a  tea  box  would  give  you  an  idea  of  the 
Chinese  language.  Sound  is  not  transmitted  by 
characters.     K'ow  these  two  negro  women  were   a 


.?' 


VEE^-AL  DtJ:^E  131 

study  as  they  discussed  that  "poor  onery  free 
nigger." 

''  And  hain't  got  nobody  ter  look  out  fer  him,  poor 
critter !  Ailsey,  gimme  er  dip  o'  snuff.  I  pay  yer 
back  ter-morrow.  And  yer  say  his  folks  is  free, 
too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Lord !  and  working  erbout  wid  poor  white 
folks ! '' 

"  Er-her !  Dey  ain't  got  nothing  deyselves,  how 
dey  gwine  ter  help  poor  lazy  niggers  ?  " 

"  Dat's  hit  now,  Judy,  dey  don't ;  and  hongry ! 
Shoo,  he  et  like  er  hound !  " 

"  Mammy  1  " 

"  Good  God  A'mighty !  Dick,  how  yer  skeered 
me !  You  come  creeping  up  pun  me  dat  way  ag'in, 
I  bust  yer  head  open  —  I  'clare  'fore  God  I 
win." 

Dick  was  so  used  to  such  dire  threats  they 
caused  no  alarm. 

"  Mammy,  I'se  hongry.'' 

"  Hongry !  Where's  all  that  dinner  yer  et  ?  I'd 
scorn  to  be  as  holler  as  a  free  nigger." 

Dick  was  making  way  to  his  mammy's  cabin 
when  she  called  after  him,  "  Don't  yer  dare  tetch 
nothin'  in  dat  cubbard  tell  I  come." 

"Well,  come  on  den,  mammy.  I'se  in  a  hurry. 
I'se  got  ter  carry  sumpen  to  de  gret  bus." 

Interest  in  the  great  house  rather  than  Dick's  ap- 
petite caused  her  to  follow  him  at  once. 

"  What  yur  got  ter  do  to  the  gret  hus  ?  " 


132  VEEISTAL  DUNE 

"Fiddle-strings/'  lie  said,  without  further  expla- 
nation, diving  into  his  plate  of  cold  food. 

"  You  dun  been  ter  town  ?  " 

"Yes,  'em." 

"  What  else  yer  got  ? '' 

"  :NTothin'." 

"  But  I  knows  yer  is,  wid  yer  pockets  'bout  to 
bust.  Don't  you  lie  ter  me,  boy.  I  break  yer  head 
fer  you  es  quick  as  I  look  at  you." 

"  I  just  spent  my  money  what  Mars  Jim'son  give 
me." 

"  How  much  wus  hit  ?  " 

"  Quarter  dollar." 

"  An'  you  done  gone  an'  spent  er  whole  quarter !  " 

"  Mammy,  yer  talk  like  I  could  vide  up  er  quarter 
'twixt  us." 

"  You  don't  never  think  of  yer  pore  ole  mammy," 
she  said,  aggrieved  at  his  extravagance  in  laying  out 
so  large  a  sum  on  himself. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  mammy !  I'se  gwine  ter  play  de 
jew's-harp  fer  yer."  Shoving  the  plate  on  a  con- 
venient bench,  he  went  up  toward  the  house.  Instead 
of  going  in,  he  went  around  to  a  well-shaded  part  of 
the  grove  and,  throwing  himself  down  under  a  tree, 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  fiddle-string,  a  jew's- 
harp,  and  a  mouth  organ.  After  examining  the 
string  critically,  he  thrust  it  back  into  his  pocket, 
then  tried  the  jew's-harp,  but  upon  the  mouth  organ 
he  dwelt  with  delight,  trying  as  many  tunes  as  he 
could  whistle,  and  with  as  many  changes  as  a  mock- 


VEE:NrAL  DUNE  133 

ing  bird.  He  fairly  reveled  in  melody.  It  was 
toward  evening  before  his  concert  was  interrupted. 
As  be  went  back  across  tbe  yard  he  met  Aunt  Judy, 
who  was  on  her  way  to  the  kitchen. 

He  asked  her,  '^  What  is  er  free  nigger,  mammy  ?  " 

"  Hit's  pore  black  folks  that  hain't  got  no  white 
folks.  Dey  jest  goes  round  working  fer  pore  white 
trash,  'kaze  quality  folk  haves  they  own  black  folks 
and  won't  have  'em.     I  lay  you  seed  him  on  de  road." 

"  Did  he  look  like  daddy's  ole  coat  whar  he  stuffed 
ter  skeer  crows  ?  " 

"  Bress  God,  he  looked  nigher  like  de  ole  coat  fore 
'twas  stuffed." 

"  I  seed  him.  Ole  Bet  like  ter  fro  me  shying  at 
'im.  Master's  good,  how  come  he  didn't  ax  him  ter 
have  'im  ? " 

"  Mars  Theo  don't  want  no  sorrier  nigger  dan  you. 
One  on  de  plantation  is  ernuff,  de  Lord  knows.  Go 
long  fetch  dem  cows,  wid  yer  head  an  yer  back  full 
er  dirt,  and  yer  pockets  full  er  jew's-harps." 

Dick  received  this  as  good-natured  wit,  which 
it  was  intended  for,  and  bounding  over  the  fence  by 
the  side  of  the  gate  he  was  soon  out  of  sight,  but  not 
out  of  hearing,  for  he  forthwith  adjusted  his  move- 
ments to  suit  the  business  uppermost  in  his  mind, 
and  gave  the  passing  breezes  full  time  to  waft  back 
many  impromptu  variations  from  his  highly  prized 
harmonica. 


CHAPTEK  XV, 

Southern  Coitrtship 

The  mode  of  Southern  courtship  has  advantages 
peculiarly  its  own.  It  is  the  natural  outcome  of  the 
law  of  selection.  Paterfamilias'  friendly  plotting  is 
not  worth  a  cent  if  it  works  contrary  to  this  law.  It 
is  indeed  such  an  evolutionary  process  that  the  end 
is  not  reached  or  the  conclusion  arrived  at  until  the 
thing  is  perfected. 

A  young  man  may  meet  a  young  lady,  and  through 
her  be  introduced  into  her  family,  but  that  does  not 
necessarily  constitute  him  her  property  by  the  law 
of  discovery.  The  other  members  of  the  family  do 
not  label  him  her  beau  and  shun  him  on  all  occasions, 
to  give  him  a  chance.  He  simply  becomes  another 
visitor,  and  has  one  chance  in  five,  ten,  twenty,  or 
more  according  to  the  popularity  of  the  girl  and  the 
number  of  visitors. 

A  Southern  girl  knows  nothing  about  "  keeping 
company ''  with  one  young  man  until,  heartily  tired 
of  each  other,  they  have  a  compromise  between  a 
marriage,  or  "  breach  of  promise  suit ''  of  liberty. 

What  can  be  safer  or  more  pleasant  than  being 

often  in  a  company  of  friends,  where  one  or  more 

134 


VEEN^AL  DUNE  135 

couples  are  conscious  of  special  pleasure  in  the 
glance  of  an  eye,  the  tone  of  voice  with  its  soft 
Southern  accent,  the  charming  smile  with  no  special 
meaning  where  the  heart  does  not  interpret;  where 
the  gay  spirits  are  presided  over  by  Cupid,  who  tips 
many  little  shafts  just  enough  to  call  attention  to  the 
shot?  If  the  challenge  is  accepted  then  come  many 
little  encounters,  until  affairs  run  into  a  hand-to- 
hand  engagement,  such  as  delightful  little  tete-a-tetes, 
walks,  drives,  and  as  each  young  gentleman  has  his 
turn,  individually  and  collectively  to  make  himself 
agreeable,  the  young  lady  has  the  opportunity  to 
make  a  choice  between  them. 

There  are  often  cases  of  love  at  first  sight,  but  the 
courtship  is  about  the  same.  The  girl  has  to  be  won ; 
she  does  not  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeve  or  tie  any 
lovers'  knots  upon  unwilling  hands.  They  must  of 
themselves  get  fast  entangled  through  very  helpless- 
ness and  ignorance  of  the  silken  web,  with  a  mes- 
meric delight  in  the  lover's  maze  that  makes  him 
wary  lest  the  least  want  of  gentleness  or  tact  breaks 
the  net  and  he  be  set  at  liberty. 

Is  not  this  coquetry  ? 

Well,  perhaps  this  is  the  true  meaning  of  coquetry. 

It  is  to  the  sacred  depths  of  a  maiden's  heart  what 
the  gently  unfolding  calyx  is  to  the  opening  bud. 
Suppose  no  graceful  tender  little  leaves  enfolded  the 
rosebud.  In  the  working  of  a  perverted  law  would  be 
produced  buds  shorn  of  that  delicate  texture  and 
coloring  which  is  now  a  rose's  natural  characteristic 


136  VEEN'AL  DUNE 

with  such  a  protection.  So  it  is  a  Southern  girl's 
prerogative  to  inclose  her  heart  in  those  delicate  little 
shields  of  coquetry,  until  sometime  the  warmth  of  love 
gradually  lowers  the  little  shields  and  the  purity  and 
delicacy  of  the  opening  flower  be  perfected. 

Mr.  Robert  McKinnon  had  been  visiting  Vernal- 
Dune  for  more  than  a  year,  and  after  his  engagement 
to  Sarah  he  sued  with  a  lover's  impatience  for  their 
marriage. 

A  wedding  at  this  era  was  pretty  much  on  the 
order  of  a  wedding  of  to-day.  If  the  time  was 
auspicious  and  the  alliance  agreeable  the  ceremony 
was  in  the  way  of  elegance  and  brilliance  in  keeping 
with  the  wealth  and  position  of  the  family. 

The  extent  of  its  liberality  and  spirit  of  festivity 
being  somewhat  more  pronounced,  it  reached  every 
cabin  on  the  plantation,  where,  excepting  the  cooking 
department,  the  interest  in  work  lessened  daily,  and 
upon  the  day  of  the  wedding  it  came  to  a  halt. 

In  the  house  everything  came  within  reach  of  the 
current  of  vital  interest.  The  rooms  best  adapted 
by  size  and  location  were  divested  of  incongruous 
furniture  and  made  ready  for  the  active  scenes  of 
the  festivities,  while  the  sleeping  apartments  and  ac- 
commodations were  condensed  as  far  as  possible, 
sometimes  six  beds  in  one  room.  Once  a  gallant 
gentleman,  seeking  an  outlet  for  a  quiet  smoke  in  a 
piazza,  was  seen  to  make  hasty  retreat  with  pro- 
fuse apologies,  to  a  pile  of  beds,  stored  there  to  make 
room  for  the  great  number  of  guests. 


yEE:N'AL  DUNE  13Y 

The  floor  of  the  parlor  had  been  waxed  as  "  slick 
as  glass,"  Eansom  said,  after  he  and  Burwell  had 
polished  it  with  the  long-handled  brush,  npon  which 
one  of  the  children  thought  it  rare  sport  to  ride,  the 
additional  weight  decreasing  the  muscular  pressure 
necessary  for  the  proper  degree  of  friction,  and  was 
no  more  effort  to  the  sturdy  arms  than  drawing  a 
child's  sled. 

Then  in  addition  to  the  usual  candles  and  lamps, 
strips  of  wood  for  holding  candles  two  or  three  inches 
apart  were  placed  over  doorways  and  mantel-pieces, 
each  entwined  with  garlands  of  evergreens  and 
flowers,  making  a  very  artistic  illumination. 

Handsomely  printed  invitations  had  been  sent  out, 
and  the  most  skillful  confectioner  had  been  given 
orders,  without  being  limited  in  regard  to  his  most 
expensive  possibilities. 

Miss  Barbara  and  her  assistants  had  literally 
spread  themselves  in  great  preparations,  from  "  great 
house ''  pantries  and  cellars,  to  dairy  and  kitchen. 

There  was  a  time  when  a  later  generation  critically 
examined  the  antique  garments  of  their  ancestors, 
the  narrow  short  skirt,  the  shorter  waist,  the  odd  trim- 
ming. The  queer  material  was  a  very  kindergarten 
of  interest  and  investigation,  but  upon  the  basis  of 
truth,  "  That  which  hath  been  is  now,  and  that  which 
is  to  be  hath  already  been,"  we  of  to-day  have  just 
graduated  in  that  form,  and  being  familiar  with  the 
subject  no  longer  see  anything  curious  or  grotesque 
in  much  that  was  once  termed  "  old  style."     The 


138  VEEKAL  DUNE 

aesthetic  beauty  of  the  Empire  gown  as  worn  to-day 
made  our  grandmammas  equally  lovely  long  ago. 

When  I  say  Sarah  made  a  lovely  bride,  robed  in 
white  satin,  fine  old  lace,  and  jewels,  you  may  imagine 
as  dainty  a  bride  as  you  have  seen  this  season.  Per- 
haps the  last  seen  was  a  copy  of  that  of  long  ago. 

The  picturesqueness  lent  the  occasion  by  the  elab- 
orate rufiles  of  our  forefathers  was  much  more  aes- 
thetically effective  than  any  dress  suit  of  later  days. 

A  platform  was  raised  for  the  accommodation  of  a 
skillful  band  of  musicians,  for  dancing  at  a  wedding 
was  not  the  least  honor  of  the  occasion.  When  the 
wedding  was  an  especially  brilliant  event  it  was  a 
gratification  to  be  one  of  the  guests ;  but  it  was  some- 
thing in  after  years  to  be  able  to  say,  "  I  danced  at 
the  wedding."  It  was  an  evidence  of  having  taken 
an  active  part  in  the  brilliant  exercises,  and  showed 
there  was  some  foundation  for  the  impression  that 
they  had  been  on  a  friendly  footing  with  the  family. 

Colonel  Chasseur  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  hand- 
some and  genial.  The  full  dress  suit  of  that  era  may 
have  made  some  difference  in  the  grace  of  dignity 
then  and  now.  I  imagine  the  difference  of  a  bow 
from  a  curled  and  powdered  head  poised  above  fine 
frills  and  delicately  colored  costumes  of  that  era, 
and  now,  with  the  close-cropped  head  and  neck 
splintered,  as  it  were,  by  the  stiffest  of  stiff  linen,  a 
liberal  breadth  of  shiii:  front,  suggestive  of  a  laundry 
sign,  and  the  entire  figure  incased  in  somber  hues. 


YEKNAL  DUNE  139 

The  old  style  gave  an  airy  grace  of  manner  in  sharp 
contrast  to  that  of  the  present  day. 

Mrs.  Chasseur,  in  a  shimmering  satin  of  light 
silver-gray,  a  color  she  was  partial  to,  was  as  lovely 
as  her  daughters,  with  a  sweet  refined  beauty,  like  the 
blush  roses  she  wore  on  her  breast,  and  as  Louise 
said,  "  they  just  matched  her  pretty  cheeks." 

The  neerroes  had  all  donned  their  best  clothes,  and 
ate  '^  good  things  "  from  the  '^  Gret  Hus,"  and  if  all 
did  not  see  the  wedding,  many  did,  and  the  dusky 
faces  that  peeped  over  each  other's  shoulders  in  the 
desire  to  see  the  bridal  party  get  into  the  waiting 
carriages  wore  expressions  on  their  healthy  faces  of 
peace  and  happiness  that  has  never  been,  and  will 
never  be,  seen  around  the  ballot  box.  The  display  of 
white  teeth,  the  jocular  laugh,  as  the  slippers  sailed 
over  their  heads  and  a  shower  of  rice  followed  the 
bride  and  groom  amid  some  hearty  tones  of  "  God 
bress  you.  Miss  Sarah,  and  young  Marser,  God  bress 
you  bofe." 


CHAPTEE.  XVI 

SouTHEaBN  Society  !N'ow  —  Then 

I  AM  aware  that  some  vears  before  the  late  Ward 
McAllister  revised  the  New  York  social  list,  that  to 
overhaul  social  institutions  South,  was  agitated  north 
of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  An  attempt  was  made 
to  file  a  new  scale  of  gradation,  but  it  is  not  wise  for 
inexperienced  fingers  to  meddle  with  intricate  ma- 
chinery. Through  the  great  upheaval  of  a  revolution 
the  entire  thing  was  pitched  out  of  gear,  and  instead 
of  a  sound  healthy  organization,  disjecta  memhra  lit- 
ters the  way. 

It  is  like  a  broken  kaleidoscope,  with  its  colors 
scattered.  As  a  whole  it  was  a  pleasant  sight,  its 
varied  symmetrical  form,  its  bright  coloring,  with 
distinctive  lines  of  demarkation.  Blue-blooded 
aristocracy,  red-blooded  plebeians,  yellow  gold,  luxu- 
riant green  fields,  the  delicate  white  race,  the  hardy 
black, —  each  form,  each  color  intact ;  but  the  ties 
which  bound  the  ingenious  arrangement  together 
broken,  the  pieces  separated,  never  again  can  the 
same  unity  and  harmony  exist. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  this  or- 
ganization was  exclusively  sustained  by  the  better 

140 


[  VEEI^AL  DUNE     ^      f         141 

class.  They  had  nothing  to  do  but  enjoy  life,  and 
they  did  it  with  worthy  enthusiasm.  As  I  have 
stated  before,  it  was  not  so  much  false  pride  that 
separated  the  classes  as  a  general  and  accepted  fit- 
ness of  things,  for  there  were  instances  where  per- 
sons of  attractive  natural  qualities  and  exceptional 
character  often  mingled  unquestioned  in  the  most 
fashionable  society.  Some  bright  boy  or  girl  would 
form  friendships  among  their  classmates,  and  they 
were  not  countenanced  only,  but  patronized  where 
they  were  sufficiently  refined  and  intelligent  not  to 
overdo  the  thing  in  their  effort  to  advance.  This  was 
only  a  graceful  recognition  of  worth  on  the  part  of 
society  people,  for  the  less  fortunate  class  were  never 
^^  at  home.''  Perhaps  their  occupations  were  not 
those  of  a  gentleman  "  to  the  manner  bom."  They 
knew  nothing  of  the  manner  and  cared  less.  There 
were  lines,  not  so  much  conventional  as  incongruous 
to  the  patrician  instinct,  over  which  society  people 
never  went  themselves,  but  graciously  permitted  the 
other  class  a  margin,  where  they  had  the  worthy  am- 
bition to  improve  their  condition. 

Occasionally  a  girl  would  attach  herself  to  a  party 
of  schoolgirls  going  out  to  Colonel  Chasseur's,  Mr. 
Boyden's,  or  Judge  Camdon's,  who  knew  the  visit 
would  not  be  returned.  Perhaps  she  was  the  only 
one  of  her  family  who  would  have  taken  such  a 
liberty. 

Louise  Chasseur  was  a  kind-hearted  child  and, 
always  having  plenty  of  pocket  change,  could  gratify 


142  YEKlSrAL  DUl^E 

her  natural  generosity  to  any  extent,  and  slie  never 
let  Turner  Rivers  pass  her  without  patronizing  his 
wheelbarrow  of  ice  cream  and  fruits.  She  had  the 
double  pleasure  of  helping  Turner  get  rid  of  his 
wares  and  also  treating  the  girls.  Turner  was  a  good 
bright  boy,  always  clean  and  neatly  dressed,  and  so 
polite  that  from  the  time  of  his  connection  with  the 
confectioner  he  was  very  popular  and  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  disposing  of  his  wares. 

Susan  Grafton,  Mary  Shotwell,  and  Louise  were 
on  their  way  to  the  Academy  when  Louise,  catching 
sight  of  Turner,  said: 

"  Come  on,  girls !  I've  got  a  quarter  left,  and  I 
am  going  to  let  Turner  have  it." 

"  Good  evening.  Turner,"  they  said,  overtaking 
the  youth.  * 

"  Good  evening,  ladies,"  stopping  his  wheelbarrow 
and  lifting  his  hat.  "  I  have  just  sold  out  the  cream, 
and  have  only  oranges  left." 

"  Well,"  said  Louise,  "  we'll  take  a  quarter's  worth 
of  oranges." 

The  three  girls  had  seated  themselves  on  the  handles 
of  the  wheelbarrow,  while  the  vender  counted  out 
the  oranges.  He  had  halted  under  a  tree,  and  the 
cool  shade  was  in  pleasant  contrast  to  the  heat  of  the 
sunny  and  hurried  walk. 

"  Are  you  in  a  hurry.  Turner  ?  "  asked  Louise,  as 
she  divided  the  oranges. 

"  'No ;  I  have  to  wait  when  my  patrons  eat  the 
cream,  so  I  don't  mind  resting  a  little." 


VEEN^AL  DUNE  143 

"  You  keep  that  one,  Turner,"  said  Louise. 

"  1^0,  thank  you/'  said  he,  blushing.  "  I  mustn't 
sell  things  and  then  help  eat  them." 

"  But  this  is  my  treat,  and  not  like  if  the  things 
were  yours." 

He  had  placed  the  orange  on  her  schoolbag. 

"  ]^ow  we  won't  like  it  at  all  if  you  don't  eat  that 
one,"  and  Louise  thrust  it  back  at  him. 

"  Are  you  kin  to  the  man  you  stay  with  ?  "  asked 
Susan. 

"  No,  I  am  all  to  myself ;  that's  why  I  have  to  work 
instead  of  going  to  school." 

"  Had  you  rather  go  to  school  ? " 

"  Yes,  marm,"  he  said  emphatically,  leaning 
against  the  tree  while  he  sucked  the  juice  from  the 
orange.  "  But,"  he  brightly  added,  "  it  won't  always 
be  so.  I  study  at  night,  and  after  a  while  I'll  make 
money  enough  to  go  to  school.  It  bothers  me  now 
about  getting  books." 

"  Well,"  said  Louise,  "  we  have  got  lots  of  books 
at  home  nobody  wants ;  I'll  bring  you  some.  Besides, 
I'll  thank  you  very  kindly  to  take  some  of  these," 
laughing,  while  she  emptied  her  bag. 

^'  Oh,  no ! "  he  said  confusedly,  "  I  can't  do 
that." 

"  But  you  can,  though,  for  I  have  got  Sister  Jan- 
nette's,  that  she  is  done  with." 

All  of  the  little  girls  were  looking  over  the  contents 
of  their  bag. 

"  Gracious  knows  I  will  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  some 


144:  VEKIsrAL  DUNE  \ 

of  mine/'  said  Susan ;  "  but  maybe  these  are  not 
high  enough  for  you." 

"  Yes,  they  are ;  but  if  my  mother  had  lived  I 
would  know  more  than  I  do." 

^^  Where  is  your  father  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  dead.  I  do  not  remember  him ; 
but  my  mother," —  he  said  this  with  a  gentleness  that 
was  really  pathetic, — "  I  will  never  get  over  missing 
her."     He  pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes. 

Louise  put  her  grammar  on  the  wheelbarrow,  Su- 
san her  history,  and  Mary  her  dictionary,  and  un- 
heeding his  earnest  protest  ran  off. 

Susan  said,  "  I  like  Turner  Rivers." 

"  I  think  he  is  real  nice,"  said  Louise. 

Mary  said,  ^^  Yes,  he  ought  not  to  be  doing  that 
kind  of  work." 

^'  But,"  said  the  practical  Louise,  "  it  is  better 
than  —  than  — " 

*^  Better  than  what?"  asked  Mary,  laughing. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Louise,  in  some  doubt  but 
that  it  was  about  as  bad  as  anything.  "  He  hasn't 
anybody  to  take  care  of  him,  you  know." 

"  I  think,"  said  Susan,  "  that  it  shows  he  is  a 
smart,  clever  boy  to  take  care  of  himself  like  a  grown 


man." 


"  Whom  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  asked  Matilda 
Hasier,  overtaking  them. 
"  Turner  Eivers." 
"  Got  mighty  little  to  talk  about.     He  is  as  poor 


yEEI^AL  DUI^E  145 

as  a  church  mouse,  and  has  to  earn  his  own  living," 
she  said,  turning  up  her  nose. 

'^  I  shouldn't  think  jou  would  say  anything  against 
anybody  earning  his  own  living,  Tildy,"  said  plain- 
spoken  Louise,  with  a  significant  glance  at  Susan. 

^^  Humph !  You  talk  like  I  had  to  work.  My  pa 
has  got  plenty  money.'' 

"'  How  did  he  get  it  ?  "  asked  Mary  slyly. 

"  Get  it  ?  Why,  I  don't  know.  How  did  yours 
get  his  ?  " 

''  Oh,  papa  never  got  any;  it  has  always  been  in  the 
family  like  Uncle  Theo's,"  said  Mary,  laughing. 

^^  Well,  that's  nothing  to  be  so  stuck  up  about ! 
Just  so  anybody  has  got  money,  that's  enough." 

^^  I  don't  know  so  much  about  it's  being  enough," 
said  Mary,  "  but  I  guess  it  is  better  than  nothing." 

"  Well,  you  seem  to  think  so  much  of  Turner 
Eivers,  what  has  he  got,  pray  ? " 

"  Ice  cream  and  oranges !  "  laughed  Louise,  mim- 
icking Turner,  at  which  all  laughed  good-humoredly. 

^'  Turner  Eivers  is  a  nice,  smart  boy.  Charlie 
Launders  says  so,"  said  Louise. 

"  And  who  is  Charlie  Launders  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  boy  who  doesn't  have  to  work  for  his 
living.  Don't  you  want  to  know  him  ?  "  asked  Mary 
teasingly. 

"  Well,  you  can  make  much  of  Turner  Eivers  and 
his  wheelbarrow  to  your  heart's  content  for  all  I 
care,"  said  Matilda,  tossing  her  head. 


146  VERBAL  DinSTE 

"  We  are  going  to/'  said  Louise,  "  and  when  I 
have  my  birthday  party  I  am  going  to  invite  him." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Susan. 

They  had  reached  the  grove,  and  the  ringing  of 
the  bell  showed  them  that  Miss  Benedict  had  got 
there  before  them. 


CHAPTEE,  XVII 
ListejsIjn^g  to  a  Divi:nx  Call. 

Mr.  Jamestox  came  down  to  the  wedding.  As 
the  festivities  had  given  him  little  opportunity  for 
■uninterrupted  conversation  with  Jannette,  he  very 
willingly  yielded  to  the  pressing  invitation  of  Wil- 
liam to  remain  as  one  of  a  few  select  friends  to  help 
tide  them  over  the  loneliness  caused  by  Sarah's  de- 
parture. Aud  pleasant  indeed  was  the  reunion  after 
eight  or  ten  months'  separation.  Jannette  had 
reached  the  second  term  of  her  senior  year,  and  the 
divine  drawing  of  the  Holy  Spirit  had  decided 
William's  lifework.  The  love  of  the  Master  had 
lighted  the  clear,  honest  eyes  with  a  soft  radiant 
beauty  that  shone  with  interest  for  all  mankind. 
And  to  a  naturally,  low,  sweet  voice  and  gentle  man- 
ner was  added  oratorical  force  of  expression  that  was 
in  after  years  to  touch  the  hearts  of  sinners  and  lead 
them  into  the  ways  of  righteousness  and  paths  of 
peace. 

In  previous  conversations  with  Jannette  he  had 
talked  of  his  future  —  the  solemnity  of  a  decision 
respecting  a  ministerial  call.  In  his  case  all  honor- 
able avenues  were  open  to  him  through  his  own  worth 
and  that  of  a  wealthy,  influential  family. 

"  The  distrusts  of  one's  own  heart,  hesitating  be- 

147 


148  VEEN'AL  DUNE 

fore  so  pure  a  shrine !  IvTow,"  said  he,  "  I  can  hesi- 
tate no  longer.  I  can  myself  at  least  kneel  at  the 
shrine  to  which  I  may  lead  others.  I  think  of  your 
precious  life  united  to  mine.  It  is  not  a  selfish 
love.  I  do  not  take  you  from  your  home  of  opulence. 
Darling,  I  could  not  ask  you  to  share  the  precarious 
fortunes  of  a  poor  itinerant  preacher,  but  the  in- 
heritance that  I  have  thought  of  little  heretofore  is 
now  a  source  of  comfort  and  pleasure.  I  shall  re- 
quire no  sacrifice  of  you  that  follows  in  the  wake  of 
poverty,  knowing  that  you  approve  of  and  are  in 
sympathy  with  my  decision.  I  have  only  one  regret 
to  mar  an  otherwise  happy  state  of  mind.  As  you 
know,  I  am  an  only  child.  We  have  always  been  the 
best  of  comrades,  my  kind,  indulgent  father  and  I, 
and  he  has  set  his  heart  upon  my  being  a  lawyer  and 
politician,  if  I  choose  any  settled  occupation.  This 
divine  call  has  had  to  pass  a  strong  veto  in  the 
opposition  of  my  father  before  reaching  me.  The 
fact  of  my  being  able  to  hear  it  above  that  is  another 
assurance  of  its  divine  origin." 

"  That  is  a  great  test,"  said  Jannette.  "  I  can't 
think  of  a  more  severe  one.  After  relying  upon  your 
father  since  your  childhood,  being  guided  and  di- 
rected by  him  in  every  step  of  importance,  thus  seem- 
ing to  take  matters  into  your  own  hands  and  ignor- 
ing his  wishes  must  be  a  heavy  trial." 

"  It  is  indeed."  And  more  than  a  shade  of 
trouble  touched  the  face  and  tone  of  this  young 
student  of  theology. 


VEEISTAL  DUITE  149 

^^  But,"  added  Jannette  brightly,  "  you  would  not 
be  so  sure  of  the  call  if  everything  pushed  you  right 
into  place,  and  as  there  was  a  way  provided  without 
the  sacrifice  of  Isaac,  so  will  there  be  a  happy  way 
out  of  this  difficulty." 

'^  Sweet  little  prophetess,"  he  said,  his  face  clear- 
ing. '^  As  long  as  I  have  you  I  cannot  be  over- 
whelmed." 

He  took  from  his  pocket  a  little  box,  which  when 
oj)ened,  disclosed  a  fine  diamond  ring. 

"  This  was  the  engagement  ring  of  my  mother, 
there  is  a  sacredness  about  it  that  no  other  ring  could 
have.  This  is  not  to  be  your  engagement  ring,"  he 
said,  smiling,  as  he  took  her  hand,  '^  but  a  proof  of 
how  near  and  dear  you  are  to  me.  Whenever  you 
think  of  it,  let  it  say  to  you,  ^  he  loves  me  so  truly 
and  tenderly,  and  feels  so  sure  that  ,  his  sainted 
mother  would  approve  his  choice,  that  he  wants  some- 
thing like  a  tangible  unity  of  spirit.'  " 

He  put  the  ring  on  her  finger  and  kissed  her  hand 
with  the  gentle  fen^or  that  left  no  doubt  of  his  de- 
votion. 

"  Oh,  !Mr.  Jameston !  you  don't  know  how  this 
proof  of  your  love  has  touched  my  heart.  There  is 
a  sacredness  about  it  above  even  an  engagement,  that 
might  sometimes  be  entered  into  lightly;  but  this 
ring  of  your  dear  mother  as  a  seal  of  approval  — 
never !     I  almost  feel  the  touch  of  her  hand." 

"  And  I  feel  the  peace  of  her  presence.  I  may  be 
an  awkward  wooer,  for  I  have  had  little  practice; 


150  yee:^al  duke 

but,  darling,  there  is  no  lack  of  love  and  earnestness 
in  nij  heart,  and  as  my  mother  was  my  first  inter- 
preter, and  as  I  grew  up  understood  every  phase  of 
my  temperament  and  cheered  and  stimulated  me 
through  her  confidence  and  sympathy,  so  her  ring 
beyond  the  power  of  a  sovereign's  signet  of  law  seals 
that  of  love  in  united  hearts.'' 

Here  their  attention  was  attracted  by  the  sound 
of  galloping  horses,  and  Ada  and  Dr.  Hyman  came 
in  sight. 

"  What  a  graceful  rider  your  sister  is." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jannette,  ^^  Sister  Ada  is  as  straight 
as  an  Indian  and  sits  her  horse  well.  How  beautiful 
she  is !  " 

She  returned  Doctor  Hyman' s  gay  salute,  from 
the  window. 

"  Judging  from  appearances  there  will  be  another 
wedding.  I  can  imagine  the  end  to  such  marked 
attention,  though  you  young  ladies  are  so  popular  it 
will  keep  any  fellow  on  his  mettle  to  come  out 
ahead,"  he  said,  laughing  happily. 

The  lively  young  doctor  joined  them,  and  after 
Ada  had  exchanged  her  riding  habit  for  a  dress  of 
some  airy  material,  she  made  her  appearance.  The 
heightened  color  in  her  cheeks  might  have  been 
credited  to  the  equestrian  exercise  solely,  had  not  the 
unusual  gayety  of  the  young  doctor  suggested  to  other 
minds  the  true  state  of  his.  It  was  evident  that  the 
ride  had  been  a  success.     Had  it  not  been  there  would 


vee:^al  du:ne  i5i 

have  been  traces  of  it  in  the  doctor,  whose  face  and 
manner  was  always  a  true  index  to  his  state  of  feel- 
ing. He  was  the  only  son  of  the  Secretary  of  State, 
intelligent,  well  educated,  and  skillful  as  a  physician, 
and  with  the  best  social  connections.  These  gave 
him,  without  a  struggle,  an  enviable  place  among  pro- 
fessional men  of  the  day.  He  was  kind-hearted  and 
charitable,  but  very  strong  in  his  prejudices;  if  he 
liked  a  person  he  was  a  jovial  and  witty  companion, 
but  toward  those  he  did  not  like  his  pride  ran  into 
haughtiness  that  was  repellent.  His  kindness  to  his 
patients,  whatever  their  condition  or  position  in  life, 
had  built  up  for  him  a  fine  practice,  and  had  won  for 
him  many  devoted  friends  among  all  classes.  So  it 
seemed  but  natural  that  the  brilliant  Ada  should  have 
attracted  the  young  and  popular  do<3tor,  and  that  his 
ardent  wooing  should  meet  with  success. 
,  During  his  courtship  the  doctor  was  placed  in  a 
very  embarrassing  if  not  irritating  situation,  by  rid- 
ing a  fiery  young  horse.  He  was  a  fine  rider,  sitting 
his  horse  as  if  he  was  a  part  of  him,  and  never  riding 
any  but  such  as  required  the  nerve  of  a  fearless 
rider  to  curb.  On  this  occasion  when  he  reached 
Yemal-Dune  a  very  heavy  rain  was  falling.  The 
young  horse,  not  liking  the  thunder,  reared  and 
plunged  so  as  to  displace  the  doctor's  fine  silk  beaver. 
K'o  spur  or  whip  could  induce  the  horse  to  go  near 
the  raised  umbrella  that  had  been  sent  out  to  shelter 
the  doctor  to  the  house,  and  before  the  doctor  could 


152  VEEISTAL  DUNE 

dismount  lie  was  not  only  quite  wet,  but  his  upturned 
beaver,  notwithstanding  its  aristocratic  pretensions, 
w^as  catching  rain  like  any  ordinary  tub! 

This  incident  and  one  other  contretemps  were 
standing  jokes  he  told  on  himself,  when  the  discom- 
fiture had  wasted  itself  in  good-natured  laughter. 

There  was  an  entertainment  in  honor  of  some 
public  event,  and  Hyman,  who  was  very  fond  of  his 
little  sister,  told  her  he  could  not  romp  with  her 
then,  as  he  was  going  to  a  party.  As  party  suggested 
cake  to  the  child,  she  asked  him  to  bring  her  a  piece, 
and  he  readily  promised  he  would.  The  affair 
proved  very  enjoyable,  and  little  Louisa's  request 
was  not  thought  of  until  at  the  banquet  table.  Want- 
ing to  humor  the  little  girl,  a  small  iced  cake  was 
folded  in  his  handkerchief  and  put  in  his  pocket,  to 
be  forgotten  the  minute  afterward.  During  the 
evening  when  he  was  the  gayest  dancer  on  the  floor 
and  the  greatest  gallant  generally,  and  in  the  presence 
of  the  most  noted  belles  of  the  occasion,  in  a  graceful 
flourish  of  grandiloquence  the  snowy  handkerchief 
was  quickly  withdrawn,  tossing  the  cake  with  most 
embarrassing  emphasis  into  the  midst  of  the  party. 
Imagine  the  inferences ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

William  Jamestoi^  at  Home 

The  scene  upon  whicli  this  chapter  is  based  is  in 
our  neighboring  State,  Virginia.  The  dimensions 
of  a  dwelling  house  just  in  sight  of  a  traveling  car- 
riage, entitled  it  to  the  name  of  mansion.  It  is 
commodious  and  massive,  with  gi'eat  stone  pillars 
supporting  a  covered  vestibule,  that  reached  to  the 
two  story  roof.  The  floor  of  this  entry  was  inlaid 
with  white  and  gray  octagon  stones.  The  house  stood 
on  a  slight  elevation.  The  well-turfed  lawn  sloped 
down  to  the  iron  fence,  where  a  large  gate  on  either 
side  of  the  house  furnished  an  entrance  and  outlet 
to  a  broad  and  gravel-coated  carriageway  that  curved 
in  graceful  well-kept  borders  up  to  the  mansion.  To 
this  gateway  one  bright  morning  a  splendid  carriage 
approached.  The  conveyance  stopped,  the  footman 
leaped  to  the  ground  and  opening  the  door  unfolded 
the  several  steps,  and  William  Jameston  descended 
from  the  stately  coach.  A  gray-headed  mulatto,  with 
pompous  air,  but  kindly  face,  had  swung  open  the 
hall  doors. 

"  Glad  youVe  got  back.  Mars  William.  Old 
house  so  empty  when  you're  gone  it  sounds  right 
holler.'' 

153 


154  vee:n'al  dune 

^^  Thank  you,  Uncle  Eben.  I  am  glad  to  get  back 
home.  I  suppose  I  will  find  father  in  the  library. 
All  of  you  are  well,  I  hope."  He  ran  up  the  steps 
like  a  light-hearted  boy,  while  the  men  removed  trunk 
and  valise. 

^'  Glad  to  see  you,  my  son,"  said  the  elder  James- 
ton,  embracing  William. 

The  father  of  William  Jameston  was  a  noble- 
looking  man,  and  although  past  the  prime  of  life 
still  retained  a  grand  manliness  and  the  courtly  ele- 
gance of  gentlemen  of  his  day.  Tall  and  straight, 
with  punctilious  nicety  in  every  detail  of  his  toilet, 
the  poise  of  the  grand  head,  the  carriage,  every  move- 
ment, bespoke  not  only  the  gentleman,  but  one  whose 
ancestry  had  drawn  a  severe  line  in  all  associations. 
Members  of  his  club  adored  his  brilliant  mind, 
coveted  his  patronage,  but  were  never  familiar. 
Since  the  death  of  William's  mother  the  one  thing 
left  to  fill  his  heart  was  William.  He  was  proud  of 
his  handsome,  intelligent  boy.  His  career  up  to  the 
present  time  had  met  with  his  father's  approval. 
Everything  that  William  said  or  did,  from  his  boy- 
hood up,  from  its  ingenuous  gracefulness  had  a 
charm  for  the  fastidious  man.  The  unswerving  laws 
of  heredity,  as  exemplified  in  the  young  man  were 
noted,  by  the  elder,  with  increasing  pleasure,  and 
he  traced  in  his  son  his  own  high  sense  of  honor, 
and  the  intelligent  comprehension  and  strength  of 
character  that  fulfilled  all  its  demands.  The  embryo 
virtues  and  accomplishments  of  the  aristocrat  were  all 


VERN'AL  DUNE  155 

embodied  in  the  boy.  Yet  there  was  a  psychological 
difference  between  sire  and  son,  that  was  yet  to 
pnzzle  the  now  confident  father.  The  life  current 
that  had  run  through  Lee  Jameston's  entire  life  was 
pride.  While  William's  motive  power  was  innate 
purity  and  goodness,  and  his  father  recognized  the 
nobility  of  the  youth,  yet  most  he  admired  the  son's 
generosity,  and  almost  worshiped  the  sweet  gentle- 
ness and  the  conscientiousness  that  recalled  the 
Christian  virtues  of  his  beautiful  wife.  That  his 
boy  was  always  doing  good  and  saying  remarkable 
things  to  learned  men  and  routing  their  false  argu- 
ments without  seeming  effort,  pleased  him ;  he  even 
thought  it  a  good  joke  when  William  denounced  many 
of  the  fashionable  follies  of  the  day.  He  was  glad 
that  the  boy  had  not  taken  to  gambling  and  horse- 
racing.  He  had  himself  been  too  proud  for  such 
sports  and  too  refined  for  such  associations.  It 
made  no  difference  to  him  if  William  did  not  choose 
a  profession.  Why  should  William  be  bothered  about 
anything  but  looking  after  the  estate?  The  father 
did  not  care  whether  his  son  married  or  not.  Wil- 
liam could  suit  himself  about  the  time,  and  he  felt 
no  misgivings  as  to  his  choice.  The  companionship 
of  his  son  was  very  enjoyable,  and  this  first  evening 
at  home  after  a  month  or  so  of  traveling  furnished 
an  agreeable  exchange  of  current  news. 

''  You  know,  father,  I  told  you  a  year  ago  about  a 
pretty  little  girl  in  E'orth  Carolina  who  had  captured 
my  heart." 


156  VEKNAL  DUNE 

"  Humph !  "  said  the  elder.  "  I  suppose  you  fall 
a  prey  to  another  at  this  last  visit ;  but  you  have  an 
inherited  right  to  be  fastidious.  You  have  plenty  of 
time  before  you,  too." 

^^  You  are  right,  I  am  fastidious.  You  know  I 
never  fell  a  prey  to  anything;  but  I  made  a  bold  at- 
tack this  time,  after  a  siege  of  nearly  two  years,  and 


won.'' 


This  was  said  in  a  manly,  straightforward  way. 

"  Well,  let's  have  the  particulars.  Patrician  line- 
age, beautiful,  cultured,  rich  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  the  finances." 

"  You  don't !  Eh,  Gad !  I  think  you  had  better 
make  a  note  of  that  item  for  your  next  visit." 

"  Colonel  Chasseur  lives  like  a  prince.  You  have 
seen  William." 

"  Yes ;  fine  young  man." 

"  Well,  the  entire  family  are  exceptional  in  every 
respect.  The  ladies  are  gentle  and  lovely.  There  are 
no  lack  of  means,  for  it  takes  a  fortune  to  live  as  they 
do;  it  is  a  continual  feast,  an  uninterrupted  round 
of  pleasures.  A  happier  or  more  indulged  house- 
hold I  never  saw;  but  as  to  a  dowry,  I  never  even 
thought  of  it  in  connection  with  his  daughter;  and 
my  lady-love  —  when  you  see  her  you  will  under- 
stand that  a  dowry  is  a  small  matter.  Indeed,  it  is 
not  to  be  thought  of  in  connection  with  such  a. 
jewel." 

"  Humph !  It  seems  to  me  that  some  time  during 
the  course  of  my  life  I  have  heard  something  similar 


VEE^AL  DimE  157 

to  your  last  remark,"  his  father  replied,  with  dry 
emphasis. 

"  Well,  father,"  said  William,  coloring,  "  suppose 
you  wanted  a  certain  gem,  and  found  one  flawless, 
would  the  matter  of  the  case  or  setting  deter  your 
getting  possession,  particularly  if  you  could  afford  to 
reset  it  as  you  pleased  ?  " 

'^  Eh,  Gad !  I  suppose  you  have  already  made 
your  settlement  ?  "  in  the  tone  of  cool  inquiry. 

"  Colonel  Chasseur  has  not  given  me  an  oppor- 
tunitv.  Miss  Jannette  does  not  orraduate  till  next 
June,  and  I  wanted  to  study  some  myself  during 
that  interval." 

"  Study,  eh  ?  By  Jove,  William !  I  suggest  it  be 
finances,"  he  replied  good-humoredly. 

^'  Xo,  sir;  I  must  study  theology,"  replied  William 
gravely. 

The  elder  rose  quickly,  his  countenance  changing 
suddenly,  as  if  stricken  with  pain.  "  Xot  to-night, 
William.  I  had  hoped  this  love  business  would  give 
you  occupation  enough  for  the  present." 

^'  Father,  out  of  respect  and  affection  for  you  I 
have  put  the  settlement  of  this  question  off  from  time 
to  time.     Listen  to  me  now." 

There  was  so  much  pathetic  entreaty  in  William's 
tone  and  manner  that  his  father  now  paused  with  his 
hand  on  the  door-knob. 

^^  William,  I  have  no  objection  to  your  studying  the 
Bible,  but  can't  you  employ  your  spare  time  in  doing 
such  charity  as  you  may  choose,  and  living  a  blame- 


158  yEE:N'AL  Du:^rE 

less  life,  without  being  one  of  those  common,  ranting, 
itinerant  jockeys  scouring  the  country  —  a  dirty 
thriftless  set  of  adventurers,  prating  of  things  they 
know  nothing  about,  and  making  their  living  on  col- 
lections ?  " 

"  But,  father,  I  don't  purpose  to  be  anything  as 
objectionable  as  you  picture ;  besides,  your  prejudice 
makes  you  unjust  to  that  class  of  man.  If  you  knew 
some  of  them  you  could  but  admire  their  self-sacrifi- 
cing lives.  Their  zeal  knows  no  discouragement  — 
they  bear  patiently  the  sneers  and  persecutions  of 
the  people." 

"  That's  it,  now,"  said  the  father,  resuming  his 
chair.  "  Cowards  and  sneaks !  Who  is  called  upon 
to  bear  persecutions  in  this  era  of  enlightenment  ? 
A  gentleman  will  not  be  attacking  everybody  and  pub- 
licly denouncing  them  as  vile  wretches,  because 
they  are  not  one  of  those  weak,  emotional  creatures, 
falling  into  trances,  seeing  visions,  and  shouting 
everybody  deaf  in  their  meeting-houses.  If  it  is 
necessary  for  this  kind  of  thing  to  be  carried  on 
among  the  ignorant,  common  people,  let  them  enjoy 
the  thing  among  themselves ;  but  it  is  no  fit  occupa- 
tion for  a  gentleman.  ISTo,  William,  I  would  rather 
follow  you  to  your  grave  than  have  you  ranting  at 
one  of  their  meeting-houses." 

"  But,  father,  if  the  common,  ignorant  people  have 
souls,  they  need  someone  to  teach  them  who  is  not 
ignorant.     I  would  regret  to  do  anything  offensive 


yEEi^AL  DU:^E  159 

to  you,  but  if  I  conscientiously  believe  I  must  work 
to  save  souls  — " 

"  There  it  is  again !  Save  souls !  In  the  name  of 
the  devil,  how  can  you  save  souls?  I  thought  that 
event  was  the  outcome  of  the  Crucifixion." 

'^  So  it  is,  father ;  but  the  Bible  says,  ^  How,  then, 
shall  they  call  on  Him  in  whom  they  have  not  be- 
lieved ?  and  how  shall  they  believe  in  Him  of  whom 
they  have  not  heard,  and  how  shall  they  hear  without 
a  preacher  ? ' '' 

"  Oh,  William,  I  had  such  hopes,  bright  hopes  for 
your  future  —  the  perpetuation  of  my  grand  old 
name  —  and  now  in  my  declining  years,  to  have  you 
tell  me  that  your  ambition  reaches  no  higher  than  to 
trot  all  over  the  country  in  soiled  linen  and  unkempt 
person  to  harangTie  the  ignorant,  superstitious,  and 
ill-bred  masses  at  bams,  smithies,  and  meeting- 
houses !  Oh,  William,  my  son,  that  I  should  live 
to  see  this  day !  It  is  worse  than  politics,  for  that 
does  lead  to  honest  preferment ;  tlicd^  you  do  not  need, 
but  your  intellect  and  wit  would  score  high  in  con- 
gressional debates.  Oh,  William,  don't  disgi'ace 
your  good  old  name !  Examine  anew  the  portraits 
of  the  grand  men  and  lovely  women  hanging  in  our 
halls  —  do  thev  look  like  a  set  of  common  emiirrants  ? 

V  CD 

or  that  in  Puritan  or  PilgTim  herds  they  navigated 
to  this  country,  to  be  told  they  were  miserable  sin- 
ners, or  came  as  missionaries  to  the  savages !  By 
George!  your  grandfather  just  escaped  earldom  by 


160  VEEIS^AL  DU^^E 

two  brothers,  aud  if  lie  had  been  satisfied  with  his 
royal  living  and  noble  associates  you  would  never 
have  thought  of  John  Wesley,  or  any  other  fanatic, 
but  you  would  have  been  in  Parliament  to-day;  but 
his  conscience  reached  out  to  the  oppressed  Ameri- 
cans and  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  throwing 
up  his  liberty  cup  in  a  free  country.  I  inherited 
the  English  temperament  of  my  forefathers.  I  was 
born  an  aristocrat.  I  will  furnish  the  money  to 
assist  in  any  needed  reform,  but  I'll  be  hanged  if  I 
get  down  to  personal  inspection  of  the  sewers  or 
embrace  with  brotherly  love  masses  of  the 
Smendi !  Ough  !  "  And  the  aristocrat  fairly  shiv- 
ered. 

•What  could  William  say  ?  Every  time  he  essayed 
to  speak  there  was  with  increased  irritation,  a  fresh 
outburst  from  his  father. 

^^  But,  father  — "  began  William,  with  respectful 
haste. 

''  Oh,  yes,  I  know  before  you  say  it,  that  the  re- 
publicanism of  your  grandfather  has  by  one  of  the 
heredity  leaps  passed  over  me  to  you,  and  now  you 
want  to  throw  up  your  hat  and  hurrah  for  John 
AVesley  and  his  followers.  Free  people  '  Free  reli- 
gion '  by  Jove !  William,  I'd  rather  you  would  take 
orders,  and  coupee  around  gold  candelabra  harang- 
uing congregations  in  Latin,  so  as  not  to  be  under- 
stood, than  to  make  a  fool  of  yourself  by  talking  of 
things  in  English  that  you  don't  understand  —  see, 
William  ? " 


YEEITAL  DUKE  161 

^'  But  with  God's  help  I  vnll  understand/'  said 
William  earnestly. 

'^  By  George,  if  praying  will  bring  you  to  your 
senses,  I'll  take  a  hand  myself!  Why,  if  you  had 
lived  a  little  earlier,  you  would  have  been  hand  and 
glove  with  that  superstitious  old  bloodhound  Cotton 
Mather  —  psalm  singing  and  witch  burning." 

'^  Father,  it  is  the  better  enlightenment  that  has  ex- 
punged those  cruelties  and  many  Puritan  absurdities 
from  the  Christian  religion.  If  it  had  been  left, 
as  you  suggested,  to  the  ignorant,  common  people 
civilization  would  have  made  but  little  advancement. 
The  sinner,  though  ignorant  and  superstitious,  was 
conscious  that  a  devil  existed ;  but  not  in  themselves ; 
they  located  him  in  somebody  else,  hence  went  about 
exterminating  him.  When  better  and  wiser  men 
came  to  the  rescue  and  taught  them  that  each  in- 
dividual had  his  ovm.  devil  — " 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  the  senior,  "  and  there  is  the 
origin  of  hypocrisy;  every  sinner  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  hiding  his  devil  to  escape  cremation.  Such 
is  human  nature." 

"  In  the  meantime,"  said  William,  "  what  a  glori- 
ous opportunity  this  crisis  offers  to  a  conscientious 
Christian  to  help  these  poor  hypocrits  to  get  rid  of 
their  devil ;  to  lead  them  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
gentle  Christ.  As  his  disciple  to  speak  His  words 
to  those  who  cannot  or  will  not  read  them.  He  cast 
out  devils.  If  I  cannot  do  so  great  a  work,  I  may 
at  least  lead  them  to  Him." 


16^  vee:n'al  du:^e 

"  William,'^  interrupted  his  father,  "  let's  come  to 
an  understanding  now  once  for  all.  You  know  I 
have  never  crossed  you  in  anything.  Indeed,  to  do 
you  justice,  I  should  say  that  heretofore  there 
has  heen  no  move  on  your  part  to  justify  it.  How- 
ever, you  have  now  reached  an  important  era  in  your 
life  —  the  selection  of  a  wife  and  what  you  term 
your  life-work.  The  first  concerns  you  directly;  the 
last  concerns  me  and  all  my  long  line  of  ancestry. 
The  father  of  each  generation  is  expected  to  raise 
his  son  a  gentleman,  and  pass  only  gentlemen  down 
the  line.  We  as  gentlemen  born  have  had  no  need 
for  political  preferment  or  professional  honors.  Our 
intellect  and  accomplishments  have  shone  among  our 
brilliant  peers,  our  wealth  has  been  scattered  for 
good  with  liberality.  Eh,  Gad!  to  think  I  have 
built  two  meeting-houses  myself!  Our  influence  has 
generously  aided  the  less  fortunate.  I^ow  I  know  of 
the  Chasseur  family.  I  am  perfectly  willing  that 
you  should  marry  the  young  lady,  I  would  be  glad 
to  have  the  old  home  lighted  up  again  by  the  pres- 
ence of  a  beautiful  woman.  To  have  you  settled 
would  be  a  gratification.  You  will  have  ample 
means  for  establishing  your  name  as  a  great  philan- 
thropist. I  will  not  deter  you  from  any  wise  move 
in  that  way,  but  if  you  persist  in  this  nonsense,  and 
choose  to  be  a  circuit  rider  dragging  your  family 
from  one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  putting 
yourself  soul  and  body  under  the  control  of  a  bigoted, 
domineering,  narrow-minded  set  of  ignoramuses,  be- 


VEE:^AL  DUI^E  163 

ing  a  party  to  those  who  live  on  hat  collections,  I'll 
be  damned  if  I  don't  disinherit  you !  " 

The  old  gentleman  got  hotter  and  hotter  as  he  pro- 
ceeded, and  at  the  last  sentence  he  emphasized  his 
earnestness  by  a  blow  on  the  table  with  his  fist  that 
made  the  wax  candles  in  the  candelabrum  flicker  like 
summer  lightning,  and,  rising  hastily  to  prevent  Wil- 
liam speaking,  he  retired,  but  with  his  usual  courtly 
Good  night,  my  son." 


a 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A  Gkave  Meditation     -.. 

After  Mr.  Jameston  left,  William  sat  in  very- 
grave  meditation.  He  knew  his  father's  pride  and 
prejudices  too  well  not  to  understand  fully  the 
strength  of  his  opposition.  He  knew  that  he  would 
make  every  move  within  the  range  of  parental  tac- 
tics to  prevent  his  entering  the  ministry.  To  persist 
in  a  course  so  distressing  to  his  father  was  his  first 
sorrow;  to  force  a  breach  in  their  happy  relations, 
perhaps  to  be  exiled  for  years,  if  not  for  life,  was  a 
weighty  care  setting  about  his  young  heart.  Then 
to  lose  his  patrimony  on  the  eve  of  marrying  a  petted 
child  of  fortune  and,  as  his  father  had  said,  drag  her 
over  the  country  to  live  upon  weekly  hat  collections, 
to  permit  her  to  suffer  the  hardships  that  poverty  al- 
ways carries  with  it,  and  that  exaggerated  and  mul- 
tiplied by  the  character  of  the  calling,  was  a  situation 
he  could  not  contemplate,  ^o,  he  could  not  marry. 
This  knowledge  drew  him  even  nearer  to  his  father, 
the  father  wanted  to  shield  his  son  from  the  hardships 
of  the  calling  that  the  latter  seemed  determined  to  fol- 
low.    The  greater  the  opposition  of  his  father,  the 

greater  the  evidence  of  his  love;   he  was  fighting 

164 


VEE:N'AL  dune  165 

blindly,  perhaps  unwisely,  for  what  he  conscientiously 
thought  was  his  son's  good.  But  the  determination 
to  follow  a  sacred  calling  had  been  no  sudden  desire 
on  William's  part.  Ever  since  years  of  discretion 
his  heart,  mind  and  daily  life  had  been  evolving  into 
the  beauty  of  holiness. 

When  but  a  lad  of  ten  at  a  great  dining  his  parents 
had  given  in  honor  of  some  distinguished  guest,  when 
the  company  paid  much  attention  to  the  handsome 
young  heir,  and  he  was  told  of  some  act  of  heroism 
or  daring  exploit  of  first  one  and  then  another  of  the 
party,  he  was  playfully  asked  which  one  would  he 
take  for  his  model  ? 

'^  That  is  all  very  well,"  he  said  thoughtfully, 
"  w^hen  there  is  need  for  it ;  but  we  don't  have  wars 
all  the  time." 

"  Don't  want  to  put  your  reputation  on  the  shelf, 
you  active  young  scamp !  "  and  they  all  laughed  mer- 
rily and  humorously  drew  him  out, 

^^  Well,  you  are  so  fond  of  reading,  tell  us  what  hero 
made  a  lasting  impression,  and  that  you  like  the 
best." 

The  boy  was  standing  in  the  midst  of  them.  His 
sweet  blue  eyes  and  tumbled  blonde  curls,  embroid- 
ered knickerbocker  suit,  with  its  snowy  ruffles,  made 
an  interesting  picture,  in  the  graceful  pose  that  chil- 
dren raised  under  very  refining  influences  often  take 
unconsciously.  He  had  then  the  little  trick  of  think- 
ing before  speaking,  that  we  have  noticed  still  clings 
to    him.     Now,    after    a    thoughtful    pause,    during 


166  vee:n"al  dune 

which  the  gentlemen  watched  with  amused  interest, 
he  answered  without  hesitation  or  embarrassment: 

"  I  like  St.  John  the  most.'' 

"  St.  John !  By  George !  What  was  his  lasting 
reputation  ?  " 

'^  Jesus  loved  him,"  said  the  child. 

"  By  God !  Jameston,  you  will  never  raise  him !  " 
exclaimed  one  under  his  breath,  while  a  subtle  change 
touched  the  gayety  of  the  group. 

Nevertheless,  the  delicate  child  did  reach  manhood, 
and  we  find  him  still  clinging  to  his  first  principles 
and  walking  in  the  footsteps  of  his  early  model,  not- 
withstanding the  traditions  of  his  social  condition 
and  the  opposition  of  his  father. 

William  saw  no  chance  of  bringing  his  father  over 
to  his  way  of  thinking.  Jameston,  the  elder,  was  a 
good  man,  but  he  held  to  superficial  views  in  regard 
to  some  orthodox  questions,  and  though  in  the  main 
it  was  the  manner  of  procedure  rather  than  the  cause 
that  prejudiced  the  old  gentleman  against  the  evan- 
gelical crusade. 

He  had  righteous  contempt  for  a  sanctimonious 
ignoramus,  one  harangTiing  the  people  in  bad  English 
and  with  worse  manners.  Such  a  one  may  have  ex- 
perienced a  change  of  heart,  but  if  it  was  not  reflected 
in  a  change  of  linen  he  had  no  faith  in  its  purity. 
In  this  era  the  horrors  of  superstition  had  been  re- 
placed by  weighty  gravity,  as  though  the  gross  errors 
of  a  past  generation  necessitated  rigorous  circumspec- 
tion. 


VEEXAL  BJJ^E  167 

Mr.  Jameston,  living  between  the  two  extremes, 
naturally  imbibed  a  dislike  to  both.  He  acknowl- 
edged God  as  sovereign,  and  lived  according  to  bis 
own  interpretation  of  his  laws. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Protestant  doc- 
trines, emerging  as  they  did  from  the  tyranny  of  the 
Eoman  Church  and  the  bigotry  of  the  English,  must 
have  inherited  some  traits  from  each  that  required 
generations  to  tone  down  into  an  acceptable  and 
probable  exposition  of  the  Gospel.  ISTor  is  it  singu- 
lar that  these  good  people,  though  quickened  into  new 
life,  through  their  very  zeal  for  the  cause  they  rep- 
resented, should  have  floundered  into  the  emotional 
extremes  that  proved  so  distasteful  to  less  interested 
persons.  But  diversities  of  gifts  and  different  ad- 
ministration, with  the  same  spirit  through  their  vari- 
ous channels,  came  in  touch  with  all  people.  That 
class  of  men  whose  self-respect  and  moral  life,  as  well 
as  plausible  religious  views,  needed  a  deep-thinking, 
pleasant-speaking  gentleman  to  approach  them  in 
sensible  argument,  and  to  live  before  them  as  exam- 
ples of  irreproachable  grace,  looked  askance  at  the 
"  emotionalism  ''  of  this  latest  preaching.  On  the 
other  hand,  however,  there  was  another  class  to  be 
reached  through  their  emotions  only. 

William  had  indubitably  been  called  to  the  minis- 
try. He  had  been  brought  up  in  the  same  atmos- 
phere, and  taught  according  to  the  belief  of  his 
fathers,  and  while  in  the  midst  of  influences  contrary 
for  such  work  he  had  felt  the  call  to  the  ministry. 


168  yEENAL  DUNE 

Opposition  did  not  weaken  his  determination ;  it  only 
pained  him. 

The  morning  following  his  painful  interview  with 
his  father  the  elder  met  William  at  breakfast  with  his 
usual  kind  manner,  but  a  shade  of  anxiety  tempered 
the  conversation. 

After  a  week  had  passed  William  again  introduced 
the  subject  of  his  vocation. 

His  father  interrupted  him,  and  with  severe  dig- 
nity said :  "  It  is  useless  to  discuss  a  question  that 
has  been  decided." 

"  Well,  father,  you  know  that  I  am  sorry  to  dis- 
agree with  you  about  my  lifework.  I  know  your  op- 
position is  prompted  by  your  love  and  ambition  for 
me.  But  there  is  higher  authority  to  consider  than 
even  yours,  father,  and  if  I  disobey,  a  heavier  penalty 
than  the  loss  of  my  patrimony  will  be  visited  upon 
me.  Your  action  will  not  lessen  my  love  and  respect 
for  you,  and  I  hope  I  will  not  do  anything  to  lessen 
yours.'' 

"  But,"  said  the  old  gentleman  testily,  "  you 
know  I  have  no  respect  for  these  people,  and  you  de- 
liberately connect  yourself  with  them.  If  it  was  not 
such  a  fatiguing  and  risky  voyage,  I  would  close  up 
and  go  to  England  to  avoid  all  knowledge  of  your 
movements." 

"  'No,  father,  I  will  not  make  that  necessary.  If 
it  will  be  more  agreeable  to  you,  I  will  go  back  to 
Carolina.  I  had  thought  of  studying  with  Jonathan 
Egbert,  but  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  young 


VEKNAL  DUNE  ;  169 

divine  who  has  come  from  the  ISTorth  to  settle  in 
Xorth  Carolina  —  the  Rev.  Charles  F.  Meeds.  I 
will  confer  with  him  at  once  about  mj  determination 
to  enter  the  ministry,  and  get  his  advice." 

^'  Before  you  do  so,  it  will  be  well  to  consider  the 
question  of  the  pecuniary  outcome  of  your  obstinacy. 
While  you  have  not  inherited  the  title  of  your  an- 
cestors, you  have  inherited  everything  else.  You 
have  been  surrounded  by  every  luxury,  every  in- 
centive to  luxurious  living,  and  your  refinement  f rona( 
a  child  has  made  you  keenly,  painfully,  sensitive  to 
whatever  is  the  reverse.  The  difference  of  your 
manner  of  living  and  your  associates  will  be  to  you 
perpetual  torture.  The  renunciation  of  the  world 
by  the  monks  in  their  retirement  is  a  happy  alterna- 
tive to  embracing  the  world  and  living  familiarly 
with  the  masses.  William,  my  boy,  you  can  never 
stand  it.  I  believe  you  are  conscientious  in  thinking 
it  your  duty,  but  the  day  has  passed  for  martyrs.  It 
is  not  required  in  this  age,  and  you  will  sacrifice 
your  life  and  my  peace  by  this  step." 

'^  The  weight  of  your  opposition,  my  father,  is  my 
heaviest  cross,"  said  William  brokenly ;  '^  but  there 
is  no  alternative.  I  have  not  chosen  my  path ;  it  has 
been  pointed  out  to  me.  There  will  have  to  be  an- 
other sacrifice  through  the  outcome  of  my  poverty. 
I  cannot  marry.  I  cannot  now  ask  a  lady  raised  as 
was  Miss  Chasseur,  to  suffer  with  me  the  hardships 
of  an  itinerant  life,  without  the  aid  that  independence 
gives  to  lighten  them.     The  sacrifice  must  be  mine 


170  vee:n'al  dune 

alone.  I  must  face  my  duty.  It  would  be  a  great 
help  and  comfort  to  have  had  the  sweet  companion- 
ship of  one  so  good  and  lovely.  That  sweet  hope, 
and  my  father's  companionship,  I  will  lay  together 
on  the  altar  of  duty.'' 

The  old  gentleman  left  the  room,  but  he  did  not 
slam  the  door.  Whatever  struggle  was  going  on  in 
him  he  gave  no  visible  sign. 

At  the  end  of  a  month  William  had  made  arrange- 
ments for  his  studies.  He  located  in  Greensboro,  [NT. 
C,  and  a  friendship  commenced  between  Wil- 
liam and  the  Rev.  Charles  F.  Meeds  that  lasted  dur- 
ing life.  He  was  young,  brilliant,  witty,  with  a  gift 
of  prayer  rarely  possessed,  and  a  delivery  so  winning 
that  the  most  profound  theological  discourse  would 
be  listened  to  with  breathless  interest. 

This  period  was  fortunate  in  its  ministerial  tim- 
ber, and  many  intellectual  men  entered  the  work,  and 
the  rough-hewn  doctrine,  deftly  handled  with  more 
enlightened  spiritual  grace,  found  its  way  into  the 
homes  of  all  classes,  and  Methodism  was  a  great  power 
in  spreading  the  Gospel  and  in  making  for  the  bet- 
terment of  mankind. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Advantageous  Points  of  Slavery 

There  are  points  in  slavery  that  Abolition  philan- 
thropists have  overlooked.  In  all  human  society 
there  are  always  two  distinct  classes  —  one  to  be 
served,  and  one  to  serve.  Those  to  be  served  are  ex- 
pected to  pay  for  value  received  for  well-performed 
services;  on  the  other  hand,  none  may  expect  to  re- 
tain a  position  except  on  the  condition  of  services 
properly  rendered.  The  basis  of  the  dual  relation- 
ship is,  I  serve  for  money,  and  /  pay  money  for  serv- 
ices ;  when  the  service  fails  the  money  stops,  and  there 
is  an  end.  Between  the  slaves  and  their  masters, 
however,  this  condition  had  no  place.  The  slaves 
had  their  holidays  and  merrymakings  without  a 
thought  of  the  loss  of  time ;  the  sick,  the  infirm  adult, 
the  little  children, —  who  greatly  outnumbered  the 
able  workers, —  lost  no  meal  or  necessary  attention 
through  disability.  Therefore,  in  the  emancipation 
of  the  slaves  the  master  has  been  relieved  of  a  great 
taxation,  however  willingly  assumed  by  his  fore- 
fathers, and  increasing  in  weight  and  respon- 
sibility as  the  years  passed  it  on  from  one  generation 
of  o^vners  to  another;  but  there  were,  besides  money 

value,    other    considerations  —  which    seem   too    ob- 

171 


172  vee:n^al  dijne 

striise  for  the  psjchological  instinct  of  the  ITorthern 
philanthropist  —  that  made  the  relation  between 
master  and  servant  a  mutual  benefit. 

Continual  changes  of  the  served  and  serving  pre- 
vent the  growth  of  any  deep-rooted  interest  or  obli- 
gations that  make  life  peaceful  and  secure.  Faith 
is  a  great  component  of  the  peace  of  this  world ;  faith 
in  God,  faith  in  your  friend,  faith  in  your  servant; 
without  this  vital  strength  all  of  our  hopes,  our  plans, 
our  peace  are  in  jeopardy:  without  a  touch  of  sus- 
picion faith  in  a  stranger,  and  the  untried  lacks  the 
happy  guarantee  that  years  of  fidelity  crowns  with 
security. 

Imagination  is  not  a  tangible  thing  upon  which  to 
rear  a  solid,  practical  structure  —  hence  the  faith 
of  the  negro  in  his  master.  They  had  the  solid  com- 
forts of  life  to  take  hold  of,  the  never-failing  wisdom 
of  superiority  to  guide  them,  the  commanding  pres- 
ence to  ensure  respect ;  they  had  ever  before  them  the 
intelligent  experience,  hmnane  kindness,  and  prompt 
helpfulness  to  draw  forth  the  best  feeling  of  an  in- 
ferior race,  and  secure  their  faithful  service. 

There  was  no  sting  of  humiliation  in  this  servitude. 
'No  British  subject  ever  bowed  before  king  or  queen 
with  more  honest  pride  and  loyalty  than  the  Southern 
slave  felt  for  his  master's  family,  or  with  so  inde- 
pendent a  consciousness  of  sharing  his  prosperity. 

Was  it  philanthropy  to  scatter  this  race  as  sheep 
without  a  shepherd  ?  Was  it  philanthropy  that  re- 
duced a  neighboring  people  to  penury,  and  turned 


yEE:N"AL  DUJSTE  173 

the  freedman  —  subject  to  no  law  —  in  their  midst, 
hungry  and  homeless ;  giving  him  exchange  for  peace 
of  mind  and  comfort  of  body  political  equality  — 
suffrage  —  that  proved  a  dangerous  weapon  in  an 
ignorant,  inexperienced  hand,  to  wound  him  at  every 
move.  And  the  effort  to  force  him  upon  a  superior 
race  in  social  equality  is  a  '^  philanthropic "  move 
that  God  himself  will  yet  question. 

The  exact  relation  of  master  and  slave  has  never 
been  understood  by  the  Xorth ;  but  the  freeman  who 
remembers  his  master's  family,  if  he  was  worthy  of 
his  confidence,  will  often  look  back  regretfully  to 
those  peaceful  days.  He  may  have  worked  with  more 
regularity,  but  the  peace  and  plenty  thus  insured  was 
immeasurably  superior  to  idle  hours  and  friendless 
years. 

And  the  white  people  will  think  kindly  of  faithful 
servants  who  proved  their  loyalty  after  their  free- 
dom. 

It  has  been  said  by  those  who  opposed  slavery,  that 
some  of  the  slaves  in  the  South  were  not  well  treated. 
Let  us  see. 

This  republican  government  has  found  it  necessary 
to  fine,  imprison,  and  kill;  and  to  send  in  well- 
guarded  droves  unruly  freedmen  to  hard  labor. 

Did  plantation  government  do  worse  ? 

Does  it  prove  that  your  government  is  oppressive 
and  severe  when  your  policemen  arrest  murderers,  in- 
cendiaries, thieves,  and  vagrants  ? 

Every  government  finds  that,  notwithstanding  the 


114:  YYKNAL  DUNE 

excellency  of  its  laws  or  the  humanity  of  its  rulers, 
for  the  safety  of  the  people  the  wicked  must  be  pun- 
ished. 

Was  not  the  Prophet  Elisha  permitted  to  pun- 
ish with  leprosy  his  servant  Gahazi  for  misrepresen- 
tation and  obtaining  goods  under  false  pretenses? 

Under  slavery  there  was  less  crime  in  slave-holding 
States  and  less  punishment  for  crime  than  there  has 
been  since  in  the  same  section  of  our  country. 

Too,  it  has  been  asserted,  in  condemnation  of 
slavery,  that  the  slaves  were  sold  and  separated,  and 
however  kind  the  master  and  happy  the  slaves,  at  the 
master's  death  the  slaves  were  dispersed;  and,  too, 
when  the  children  of  the  owner  married  the  slaves 
were  carried  to  new  homes  aw^ay  from  their  families. 

!N'ow,  much  of  this  was  sentimental  exaggeration. 
Under  slavery  separations  of  the  families  of  the 
blacks  were  not  so  frequent  or  so  extended  as  they 
have  been  since  their  freedom ;  when  slaves  were  sold 
it  was  generally  done  in  family  groups,  and  the 
changes  made  by  death  or  division  were  usually  as 
agreeable  to  the  negroes  as  to  the  white  race.  A  valet 
or  maid  liked  nothing  better  than  to  follow  a  favorite 
to  a  new  home,  and  the  faith  of  the  old  negToes  in 
the  white  children  they  had  helped  to  raise  left  no 
cause  for  fear  or  sorrow,  whatever  changes  the  divi- 
sion might  make.  All  these  changes  adjusted  them- 
selves naturally:  and  even  in  the  most  aggravated 
cases  of  fallen  fortunes  the  kind  heart  of  the  owner 
could  make  some  considerate  move  to  insure  good 


vee:n"al  dune  its 

homes  and  kind  friends  for  their  slaves.  Changes 
were  made  on  the  plantations  at  any  time  by  buying 
or  selling  husband  or  wife  for  the  gratification  of 
those  whose  affections  had  been  set  on  slaves  of  other 
plantations. 

There  are  few  instances  where  gregarious  laws 
either  domestic  or  social  are  arbitrary.  Parties  sep- 
arate when  it  is  best  and  most  convenient  for  those 
concerned,  else  there  would  be  few  scholars,  few 
statesmen,  few  explorers,  and  few  discoverers.  The 
negro  suffered  no  more  on  account  of  separation  than 
did  his  master  and  his  family;  nor  did  his  condition 
as  a  slave  aggravate  this  grievance  that  all  classes, 
colors  and  conditions  have  to  bear. 

J^egro  families  are  more  often  separated  since 
emancipation,  for  cooks,  maids,  nurses,  mechanics, 
and  lumbermen  are  continually  moving  north,  south, 
east,  and  west  when  inducements  are  offered  for  the 
change. 

The  perverted  imagination  of  a  noted  JsTorthern 
writer  collected  every  calamity  that  could  possibly 
have  befallen  a  poor,  doT\Ti-trodden  race  under  the 
dominion  of  tyrants,  which,  together  with  theories 
based  upon  most  improbable  conditions,  have  all  been 
gathered  throughout  the  servitude  of  generations, 
and,  crammed  into  one  story,  one  plantation,  and  one 
cabin,  have  been  interpreted  in  ignorant  prejudice 
and  illustrated  in  the  blood  of  a  nation ! 

Tt  has  been  said  that  the  misrepresentations  of 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  was  the  red  flag  in  the  arena 


<(  TT, 


176  VERNAL  DUNE 

of  the  political  differences  of  the  North  and  South, 
but  even  had  the  conditions  of  the  slave  as  therein 
represented  all  been  true,  would  the  means  have 
justified  the  end  ? 

Shall  we  take  the  blameless  life  of  Mrs.  Suratt,  her 
persecutions  and  execution,  to  prove  the  cruelty  and 
injustice  of  the  American  government? 

Shall  we  take  the  political  craze  of  Guitteau  and 
Booth's  patriotic  fanaticism  as  evidence  that  Amer- 
ican Presidents  were  tyrants  and  the  safety  of  the 
people  required  their  extermination  ? 

Shall  we  take  Jefferson  Davis  and  his  persecutions 
for  loyalty  to  his  own  people  and  their  cause  as  a 
Northern  interpretation  of  the  pariotism  of  Revolu- 
tionary forefathers  ? 

Think  you  that  for  these  errors  foreign  govern- 
ments would  be  justified  in  uniting  with  the  world 
at  large  to  besiege  American  commissaries  until  re- 
duced to  utter  emptiness,  and  its  brave  men  to  shad- 
ows through  starvation  —  and  with  freshly  equipped 
armies  to  overwhelm,  kill,  imprison,  burn,  devastate, 
confiscate,  emancipate,  and  pass  a  law  that  the  pro- 
teges of  Castle  Garden  —  Socialist,  Anarchist,  the 
ignorant  and  vile,  all  —  indiscriminately  should  have 
equal  rights  with  your  honorable  patriotic  people ;  to 
risk  the  union  of  knavery  and  ignorance  of  the  masses 
into  a  majority ;  to  maliciously  overthrow  institutions 
dearer  than  life  ? 

Would  it  not  have  been  a  brave  patriot  who  could 
have  lived  through  such  a  time  —  to  have  gathered 


VEElSrAL  DUNE  177 

the  remnant  of  his  impoverished  family,  penniless 
and  hopeless,  to  face  the  diflBculties  ? 

Well,  that  was  the  situation  of  the  ISTorth  and 
South.  I  doubt  that  the  ]N"orth  will  ever  comprehend 
in  its  fullness  the  want  of  wisdom  and  humanity  in 
its  administration. 

The  two  sections  are  as  diverse  in  habits,  in  tem- 
perament, and  in  political  requirements  as  E-ussia 
and  England.  Yet  these  differences  are  being  slowly 
recognized,  owing  to  social  intercourse,  intermar- 
riage, and  business  relations,  rather  than  political 
discriminations.  The  angularity  of  indifference  and 
insensibility  on  one  side,  and  the  heat  of  sensitive  re- 
sentment on  the  other  have  been  softened  by  better 
acquaintance  and  by  ties  of  common  interest,  and 
when  politics  shall  adjust  itself  more  to  the  needs  of 
the  people  and  less  to  official  aggrandizement  and  the 
vainglory  of  prejudiced  cranks,  will  there  be  estab- 
lished a  government  worthy  of  two  such  great  sec- 
tions of  our  great  country. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Uk^cle  Ebei!^  aj^d  Aukt  Liza  Discuss  William^s 

Deipahtukb 

"  Wei^l/^  said  Eben,  ^'  that's  the  way  it  is.  Old 
Marster  so  proud  he  can't  'bide  common  folks,  and 
Mars  William  so  good  he  wants  to  forgive  'em,  and 
he'p  'em  git  to  heaven." 

"  And  ver  say  he's  done  gone  fer  good  ?  "  asked  his 
w^ife,  with  anxiety  in  her  tone. 

"  Jnst  betwixt  us,  Liza,  Mars  Lee  is  trying  to 
bring  Mars  William  to  his  senses,  but  he  can't  live 
without  him,  any  more  than  Mars  William  can  git 
on,  to  himself.  He  allers  done  just  like  he  pleased, 
and  it's  too  late  to  come  dowm  now  with  his  'thor- 

ity." 

"  He's  one  good  chile,"  said  Aunt  Liza;  "  just  like 

his  mar;   and  dem  big  blue  eyes  and  yaller  hair. 

Dat's  w^hat  makes  me  disbleeve  Marster  gwine  to  let 

him  go  sho'  'nuff.    He  set  such  store  by  her ;  dare's  de 

big  house,  de  fine  furnicher,  and  de  shinin'  silver, 

wdth  you  and  Jim  er-slidin'  round  de  table ;  but  Mars 

Lee  knows  it  ain't  de  same  as  when  Miss  Mary  was 

here,  and,  bress  God!  it'll  be  wuss  when  de  chile  is 

gone,"  and  Aunt  Liza  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 

178 


1 


vee:n^al  dune  179 

"  Marster  never  slept  none  last  night.  Walked  de 
floor  till  'most  day.  I  'spect  now  'twas  de  sperit  a 
workin'  him." 

'^  Debbil,  you'd  better  say,"  crossly  remarked  Aunt 
Liza. 

Though  she  loved  her  master  with  deep  and  faith- 
ful affection,  and  would  have  resented  the  slightest 
breath  of  disloyalty  to  him  from  anyone  else,  she  was 
irritated  by  the  gloom  of  the  once  bright  home.  Its 
sombemess  compared  to  its  former  glory  was  de- 
pressing now,  in  her  almost  maternal  anxiety  for 
William. 

When  William  had  taken  Aunt  Liza's  faithful  old 
hand  and  said  to  her,  "  Good-by,  Mammy,  I  don't 
know  when  I  shall  see  you  again,  but  I  shall  never 
forget  you  and  Uncle  Eben.  Take  good  care  of 
father,  and  if  he  gets  sick,  you  must  make  Jim  write 
me." 

Jim  was  ^'  Mars  William's "  special  waitman. 
William  had  taught  him  to  read  and  write,  as  was 
often  the  case  with  favorite  servants  or  when  they 
showed  any  aptness  that  way. 

Mammy  Liza  took  out  the  paper  that  William  had 
ingeniously  folded  in  the  way  then  in  vogue,  before 
the  days  of  envelopes,  and  examined  it  with  a  kind 
of  curious  pathos.  She  then  wrapped  it  up  and  put 
it  in  a  little  box  for  safekeeping. 

"  He  oughter  have  carried  Jim  with  him,"  she  said 
disconsolately. 

"  But   I   heard   him   say,"   replied   Uncle   Eben, 


180  VEENAL  DUNE 

"  '  'No,  father,  it's  a  new  business  looking  out  for 
myself,  and  I  won't  risk  Jim's  loyalty,  should  he 
become  hungry  and  homesick.'  " 

"  They  don't  enny  of  the  young  folks  know  when 
dey's  well  off.  He  oughter  took  Jim  with  him,"  per- 
sisted Aunt  Liza,  "  and  arter  ther  experance  by  they 
seff.  When  they  did  come  back  we  could  uv  killed 
the  prodical  calf,  and  settled  down  in  peace.  They'd 
had  sperance  emuff  ter  lass,  I  cacculate." 

"  Yes,"  laughed  Uncle  Eben,  "  Jim  would  have 
enuff,  ef  he  earnt  his  living  a  week." 

"  Aunt  Liza,"  said  Jake,  a  negro  from  a  neigh- 
boring villa,  "  what  is  dat  I  hear  dey  say  about  Mars 
William  making  his  par  so  mad  he  done  driv  him 
offen  de  lot  ?  " 

"  Hit's  er  lie,  no  matter  what  yer  beam !  Driv 
Mars  William  off!  Ain't  dat  more  like  er  nigger? 
Allers  gittin'  things  tail  end!  Mars  William  gone 
ter  'spound  de  Gospel  to  de  Nor'  Carliny  saffages, 
and  his  par  is  sorry  emuff  ter  let  him  go,  and  so  is 
I,  fer  that  matter.  Dat  what  yer  bring  yer  Marster 
over  here  fer,  ter  be  spying  his  betters  'fairs  ?  " 

*'  Good  Lord,  Aunt  Liza !  Sho'  thing  youse  spite- 
ful !  I  axe  all  manner  of  'senses  for  my  concaming 
yer  curosty.  I  likes  Mars  William  myself.  I  ain't 
s'archin'  nobody's  'fairs.  'Peers  like  yere  mon- 
strous easy  riled." 

"  Well,  hit's  nuff  ter  rile  ennybody,  Jake,  ter  have 
fool  questions  and  sich  notified  by  outsiders,  and  de 
chile  er  dey  heart  jest  leff  'em." 


VEEKAL  DUNE  181 

"  Eress  God,  Aunt  Liza !  is  Jim  gone  ?  " 

"  Now  dar  'tis  erg'in !  What  in  de  name  uv  de 
Lord  is  Jim  goin'  fer?  How  much  gospel  Jim  got 
ter  be  taking  off  ennywhars?  Ain't  I  got  de  right 
to  hanker  arter  de  white  chile  I  nussed  ever  sence 
he  was  bom,  and  he  good  'nuff  ter  walk  right  inter 
heaven  dis  minit?  And  he's  gone  'cause  he  ain't 
satisfied  to  stay  home,  like  some  other  young  men 
dat  I  knows  uv,  and  dat  you  knows  uv  too,  Jake. 
Just  spend  all  ther  time  galavantin'  round  day  and 
night  arter  no  good!  And  take  somebody  follerin' 
'em  up  an'  paying  'em  outen  court  and  sich!  Yer 
see,  Jake,  I  can  hear  somethings  too,  'dout  gittin'  'em 
tail  foremost,  nuther." 

"  I  'low,"  said  Jake,  stuffing  his  hands  in  his 
trousers  pockets  and  leaning  against  the  door-facing, 
with  a  kind  of  dogged  independence,  ^'  I  'lows  Mars 
Dan  kin  kick  up  de  debbil  ef  he  wants  ter.  Ole 
Marster  is  able  ter  pay  fer  it,  and  don't  ax  nobody  no 
odds,  nor  'scurity  nuther." 

"Well,  God  er  Mighty  knows  'tain't  nothing  ter 
brag  erbout." 

"  Come,  Liza,"  said  Uncle  Eben  kindly,  "  I  'low 
'tain't  no  use  ter  git  up  a  fuss  'bout  what  none  uv  us 
got  de  ruling  uv.  I  know  Jake  had  rather  have  a 
mug  of  beer  and  taters  than  so  much  jaw." 

"  I  'clare  'fore  God,  yer  hit  it  right.  Uncle  Eben. 
I'm  much  erbleege  ter  yer.  I  allers  say  I  jest  know 
Aunt  Liza  makes  the  best  beer  in  all  Virginy,  and 
sich  taters!  'peers  like  dey's  sugared  clear  through. 


18^  VEE]^AL  DUISTE 

I  alius  do  say,  wharsumever  I  goes  to,  that  they 
has  more  good  things  to  Mars  Lee^s,  and  the  plenti- 
fullest,  of  anywhar  else.'' 

So  good  humor  was  restored  to  these  self-appointed 
champions  of  their  young  masters,  one  through  a 
never-failing  appetite  and  the  other  through  super- 
abundant concessions  of  their  family  supremacy. 

The  slaves  as  a  class  were  good-natured.  They 
were  well  cared  for,  w^ithout  the  irritating  mental 
cares  of  providing  for  themselves  and  family.  The 
wealth  and  greatness  of  their  masters  were  matters 
of  personal  pride  to  them,  and  though  often  rude  and 
coarse  in  their  language  to  each  other,  they  were  more 
apt  to  display  anger  or  resentment  at  any  reflection 
or  disrespect  to  their  masters  than  to  themselves.  It 
was  the  most  vulnerable  spot  in  their  happy-go-lucky 
natures.  Those  who  had  given  them  and  their 
habits  a  little  surface  study  since  the  war,  and 
rather  from  a  political  standpoint,  will  never  be 
able  to  understand  or  fully  describe  their  relations 
with  their  masters'  family  before  the  war.  There 
never  has  been  and  will  never  again  be  so  happy  an 
adjustment  of  laws  of  servitude.  God  has  instituted 
in  the  inferior  mind  as  a  class  a  disposition  to  regard 
that  which  is  great  with  veneration,  and  that  which 
is  beautiful  with  adoration.  As  the  dark  and  homely 
Indian  was  at  first  drawn  to  the  white  race  through 
their  superior  and  almost  supernatural  comeliness, 
so  was  the  great  difference  between  the  negro  and 
white  race  a  most  natural  and  solid  platform  for  the 


vee:n'Al  dune       .        iss 

supremacy  of  the  white  race.  God  saw  fit  to  make 
this  difference.  Natural  laws  have  given  the  white 
man  superiority  in  physical  beauty  and  a  concomitant 
precedence  in  all  things,  and  as  far  back  as  the  most 
remote  investigation  and  profound  research  has  multi- 
plied the  records  of  ethnology,  the  white  race  has 
always  led  the  world  as  the  ''  survival  of  the  fittest," 
and  no  subject  born  and  raised  under  the  power  of 
a  sovereign  ever  felt  greater  love  for  his  king  and 
pride  for  the  kingdom  than  the  slave  for  his  master 
and  his  plantation  home. 

Aunt  Liza  represents  her  class  fairly.  There  was 
no  hypocrisy  in  the  tender  love  that  would  make  her 
gather  the  baby  William  in  her  arms  and  say  pro- 
tectingly,  and  with  faithful  watchfulness,  as  he 
played  about  the  yard,  "  Mammy  kill  de  las'  one  ov 
'em  dat  pesters  her  little  white  lamb."  She  noticed 
the  slightest  meddling  of  the  black  children  or  too 
familiar  handling  of  the  little  William  even  on  the 
part  of  her  Jim,  who  was  near  William's  age. 
'^  Don't  you  dare  tech  him !  "  was  a  warning  note 
heard  on  all  occasions.  Now  she  was  more  concerned 
about  his  going  away  than  if  it  had  been  Jim.  "  You 
are  big  and  strong  and  could  do  well  enough  enny- 
where,  but  that  poor  chile  don't  know  nothin'  but 
talkin'  ter  big  folks,  and  studyin'  his  books.  Jim, 
yer  oughter  gone  wid  him,  ter  see  after  him.  I 
don't  know  what  in  the  name  of  God  Marster  thinkin' 
'bout.  I'll  tell  him  so  too,  first  chance  I  git  'thout 
'peerin'  too  peart,  to  go  argyfying  with  my  betters." 


184  VEEltTAL  DUNE 

The  negro  lias  no  tact;  his  mental  impulses  are  of 
the  same  order  as  his  physical  acts.  Awkward  and 
uncouth,  he  knows  no  roundabout  tactics  to  avoid  the 
angles  of  unpleasant  situations,  and  his  attempts  at 
finesse  are  amusingly  transparent. 

Aunt  Liza  would  say,  "  If  yer  gits  sick,  Mars  Lee, 
dere's  dem  dat  orter  be  writ  to,  and  Jim's  done  had 
his  'structions  'bout  it."  And  the  interest  with 
which  she  kept  herself  posted  on  the  condition  of  her 
master's  health  was  worthy  of  a  modern  insurance 
company. 

And  the  old  gentleman  found  himself  with  hu- 
morous mobility  of  constitution  "  mighty  poorly " 
one  day,  to  be  followed  the  next  by  being  "  uncom- 
monly smart.'' 

It  was  pleasant  to  know  that  William  had  made 
arrangements  to  hear  from  him.  It  was  a  comfort 
to  know  that  he  was  within  call,  and  there  were  many 
times  when  the  lonely  old  man  was  well-nigh  tempted 
to  yield  to  the  craving  of  his  heart  and  permit  the 
faithful  health  spy  to  recall  his  boy. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Janistette  Chassetje  Gkaduates 

During  the  interval  of  the  year  in  which  Jameston 
had  studied  for  the  ministry,  Jannette  had  gradu- 
ated, and  the  close  of  Jannette's  school  years  was  also 
the  limit  to  William's  probation.  He  was  at  liberty 
to  enter  her  list  of  suitors,  which  was  no  insignifi- 
cant one,  there  being  a  promising  young  lawyer  with 
a  good  income,  a  handsome  young  colonel,  and  sev- 
eral gentlemen  of  leisure  with  great  expectations. 

The  first  opportunity  Mr.  Jameston  had  for  pri- 
vate conversation  with  Jannette,  he  said: 

"  1  hope  you  don't  think  me  selfishly  impatient, 
but  my  duties  call  me  away  to-morrow,  and  I  could 
not  go  without  this  talk.  It  is  one,  too,  of  especial 
importance  to  me,  for  two  reasons.  First,  in  that  I 
have  your  father's  permission  to  ask  for  your  hand  in 
marriage  at  this  time.  The  other  is  —  I  must  not 
do  so.  My  great  love  for  you  and  my  solicitude  for 
your  comfort  and  happiness  support  both  the  claims 
and  the  objection  to  my  pressing  my  suit.  You 
know  I  wrote  to  you  of  the  consequences  of  my  de- 
cision as  to  my  vocation  —  I  lose  my  inheritance. 

I  know  that  your  pure  love  is  superior  to  the  mere 

185 


186  VEEXAL  DUJSTE 

question  of  money,  but,  all  else  being  equal,  wealth. 
i§  not  to  be  despised  or  lightly  rejected.  At  the 
time  that  I  asked  permission  to  be  your  suitor  I  was 
the  only  heir  to  a  very  large  fortune.  I  thought  at 
first  that  it  might  be  a  test  as  to  my  fitness  for  such 
sacred  work  as  I  believe  I  am  called  upon  to  do. 
My  father  argued  strongly  upon  my  incapacity  to 
adapt  myself  to  the  true  needs  of  the  masses,  and  I 
hoped  that  his  love  for  me  would  impel  him  to  recall 
me ;  but  this  year  of  peculiar  trial  and  probation  has 
passed  without  his  forgiveness  or  my  having  been 
able  to  see  my  way  sufficiently  to  anything  like  a 
comfortable  living.  I  know,  darling,  that  you  can- 
not doubt  my  love  for  you.  I  cannot  give  you  greater 
proof  of  it  than  to  resist  the  temptation  to  put  forth 
all  my  powers  of  persuasion,  to  picture  to  you  the 
difference  between  my  life  with  you  by  my  side  and 
my  life  in  dreary  loneliness.  'No,  I  am  not  selfish 
enouo'h  for  that,  but  I  do  crave  with  all  mv  heart 
your  s^mipathy  and  love  and  the  assurance  that  you 
understand  the  matter  from  the  standpoint  of  my 
changed  financial  condition.'' 

^^  Yes,  Mr.  Jameston,  I  understand.  I  think  my 
position  is  about  as  embarrassing  as  yours.  You 
know  I  might  say  that  as  long  as  I  have  not 
been  disinherited  —  that  —  that  — "  Then  blushing 
beautifully,  "  It  would  be  too  awkward  to  offer  my 
fortune  to  a  gentleman  who  is  excusing  himself  from 
being  a  suitor,  would  it  not  ?  "  laughing  sweetly. 

William  colored. 


.VEE:N'AL  dune  187 

'^  But  the  difficulty  stands  practically  the  same. 
Your  parents  and  friends  have  the  right  to  respect 
the  best  alliance,  and  out  of  six  or  eight  suitors  I 
fllone  can  make  no  settlement." 

''  You  said  something  about  all  else  being  equal." 

"  Yes.  But  we  will  allow  that  the  others  are  all 
above  average  intelligence  and  are,  of  course,  gentle- 
men." 

''  But,"  persisted  Jannette,  smiling,  '^  you  said  ^  all 
else  being  equal.'  It  is,  then,  to  be  presumed  that 
I  favor  each  of  these  six  or  eight  suitors  ?  " 

•William's  face  brightened  as  of  old.  He  caught 
Jannette's  hand  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips  with  real 
emotion. 

"  The  possibility  that  you  may  not  is  great  com- 
fort." 

"  Mr.  Jameston,  in  the  requisites  for  an  eligible 
suitor  you  must  allow  that  my  favor  is  of  the  most 
vital  importance." 

"  I  admit  that,  without  your  favor,  there  is  not  the 
shadow  of  a  chance  for  success." 

^'  Then,  if  you  withdraw  from  the  list,  the  only 
one  who  has  my  favor,  you  leave  me  without  a 
suitor." 

^'  It,  however,  leaves  you  a  very  devoted  lover,"  he 
said  earnestly,  "  and  I  shall  be  selfish  enough  to  hope 
that  you  will  not  look  with  favor  upon  any  suitor 
until  I  can  come  to  you  with  some  degree  of  self-re- 
spect.    My  father  may  relent." 

Or  I  may  endow  some  spinsters'  home  with  my 


(( 


188  .  yEE:N^AL  DUNE 

inheritance.  But  I  place  so  mncli  stress  on  wealth 
yon  may  be  sure  the  spinster  I  endow  will  be  Jan- 
nette  Chasseur." 

William  laughed.  "  How  you  would  be  the  life 
of  our  old  Virginia  home !  Do  you  know  the  great- 
est temptation  offered  me  ?  My  father  gave  me  the 
alternative  —  to  be  a  penniless  exile  for  the  cause  of 
Christianity,  or  to  take  you  as  my  bride  home  to  be 
the  joy  of  my  life  and  the  pride  of  my  grand  old 
father,  to  be  reinstated  in  his  love  and  companionship 
without  a  thought  or  care  about  the  practical  concerns 
of  life."  The  thought  had  brightened  his  face ;  then 
as  suddenly  the  illumination  paled  out  to  a  purer 
luminosity  of  Christian  resignation  as  he  finished: 
"  But  I  must  take  up  my  cross  in  poverty  and 
loneliness  —  an  exile  from  home,  an  ineligible 
suitor." 

"  Well,"  said  Jannette  encouragingly,  "  you  must 
not  be  unhappy  when  you  have  done  your  duty." 

"  You  will  stand  by  me  that  far,"  he  said  grate- 
fully. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  am  going  to  stand  by  you  through 
everything,  even  when  you  consider  me  and  my  for- 
tune too  much  of  a  responsibility,"  smiling  archly. 

"  I  shall  continue  to  hope  that  my  father  will  re- 
call me.  I  pray  that  his  prejudice  against  my  sa- 
cred calling  will  be  removed,  and  that  you  will  love 
and  trust  me  while  I  endeavor  to  work  my  way  to  a 
competency." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Jannette  gravely,  "  I  had  better 


yEEITAL  DUNE  189 

place  this  sacred  ring  back  into  your  keeping  for  the 
present." 

Before  she  had  time  to  remove  it  he  clasped  both 
of  her  hands  with  his. 

^'  ISTo,  no,  my  darling !  let  that  signet  of  our  trust 
remain.  I  cannot  think  of  a  possibility  that  could 
weaken  its  significance.  You  remember  that  was 
not  an  engagement  ring,  but  the  seal  of  our  love  and 
hopes.  I  cannot  think  that  that  can  be  broken.  The 
sacrifice  I  have  made  has  delayed  the  fulfilment  — 
keeps  me  from  availing  myself  of  the  privilege  ac- 
corded me  a  year  ago ;  but  you  are  willing  to  wear  my 
ring  ? " 

^'  Oh,  yes !  besides,  why  be  sorrowful  over  so  sim- 
ple a  matter  as  delay?  We  have  both  much  youth 
on  our  side,  you  know.  Father  insisted  that  there 
was  time  enough,  and  I  really  think  that  a  year  or 
two  out  of  school  in  more  practical  duties  and  ma- 
ture thought  is  worthy  of  my  consideration.  You 
don't  know  how  much  of  a  child  I  am,  how  dependent 
I  am  upon  the  older  members  of  the  family." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  to  be  reconciled  to  my  fate," 
he  said,  smiling  sadly.  "  I  am  regretful,  too,  about 
the  unwillingness  with  which  I  make  the  sacrifice ;  I 
chafe  so  impatiently  at  the  restrictions.  All  the 
selfishness  in  my  nature  concentrates  at  one  point  — 
the  tenderness  of  my  love  for  you.  I  resent  my  lost 
fortune  on  account  of  my  love.  My  father's  preju- 
dice touches  me  harshly  through  my  love,  and  I  am 
not  sufiiciently  consecrated  for  so  great   a  gift  of 


190  VEKNAL  DUNE 

love.  You  speak  lightly  of  delay.  These  other 
suitors  with  nothing  to  prevent  their  pressing  their 
claims  —  I  feel  very  badly  about  them.  I  am  even 
anxious  that  my  brilliant  friend  and  confrere,  Charlie 
Meeds,  is  becoming  too  fond  of  his  little  fair-haired 
friend,  as  he  so  often  speaks  of  you  with  growing 
affection.  Why  should  he  not  love  you,  and  win 
you  ?  He  has  few  equals  in  the  ministry  or  out  of 
it.  How  intellectual  he  is,  and  how  delightful  so- 
cially !  Oh,  Jannette,  if  he  should  win  you  it  would 
break  mv  heart.*' 

"  I  do  not  think  you  need  fear  Mr.  Meeds  as  a 
rival.  I  know  that  w^e  have  been  drawn  to  each 
other  in  an  unusual  degree  of  friendship.  Perhaps 
had  I  never  met  you,  and  he  had  never  met  a  certain 
]^ew  York  lady  before  he  came  South,  he  would  not 
be  going  back  soon  to  bring  her  as  his  bride." 

"Is  that  so?"  he  asked  joyfully.  "Well,  that 
complication  is  all  that  saved  him.  I  will  give  them 
a  sincere  welcome  when  they  return." 

"  And  so  will  I,"  said  Jannette,  smiling  at  Wil- 
liam's restored  cheerfulness. 


a 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
Me.  Jameston"  Sejnds  foe  the  Doctoe 

"  How  is  jer  feeling  this  morning,  Mars  Lee  ?  " 
asked  Aunt  Liza,  eyeing  the  elder  Jameston  critic- 
ally. 

I  feel  very  badly,"  he  said  weakly. 
I  see  you  don't  seem  ter  have  no  taste  fer  your 
breakfast." 

'^  iSTo,  Aunt  Liza,  I  have  lost  my  appetite  en- 
tirely." 

^^  'Peers  like  you  gits  worser  ev'ry  day,  and  ter 
tell  the  trufe,  Mars  Lee,  you  shows  you  are  worse  off 
than  you  feels.     You  naterly  looks  all  run  down." 

^^  Yes,"  said  he,  humoring  her  evident  satisfaction 
in  his  increasing  ill  health,  '^  yes,  I  have  been  grow- 
ing a  little  worse  every  day  for  some  time  past.  I'll 
give  up  now  and  go  to  bed." 

"  Thank  God,"  was  Aimt  Liza's  involuntary  ejacu- 
lation. "  You  ought  ter  gone  ter  bed  a  month  ago. 
I  knowed  you  was  sick." 

The  old  gentleman  could  not  refrain  from  smiling, 
but  he  continued  in  a  weak  voice,  ^^  Tell  Jim  to  send 
one  of  the  boys  for  Doctor  Bragdon,"  and  he  walked 
slowly  to  his  bedroom. 

Aunt  Liza  went  in  haste  to  Jim.     "  Come  down 

.191 


192  VEKN^AL  DUNE 

ter  my  house  dis  very  minit,  Jim.  Eben,  you  go 
send  Harry  after  Doctor  Bragdon." 

"  Wliut  yer  want,  mur  ?  "  asked  Jim,  whittling  a 
stick  as  he  came  leisurely  to  his  mother's  call. 

''  You  come  on,  and  be  quick  about  it,"  she  said 
authoritatively,  walking  briskly  toward  her  house. 

Curiosity  quickened  Jim's  gait,  and  he  hastened 
indoors  after  his  mother,  who  closed  the  door  behind 
them. 

^'  Thank  the  Lord,  Jim !  Mars  Lee  has  give  up  at 
last." 

She  was  fumbling  about  in  her  chest  in  search  of 
something,  and  soon  brought  out  the  little  tin  box, 
with  the  folded  paper  that  William  had  left,  to  be 
sent  him  in  case  his  father  should  be  ill. 

"  Why,  mur.  Mars  Lee  ain't  nowise  likely  ter  die." 

"  I'm  er-going  ter  send  this  letter  off  'fore  he  has  er 
chance  ter  be  better,"  said  Aunt  Liza  firmlv. 

'^  All  right,"  said  Jim,  laughing.  "I'm  willing 
ernough.     I  bleve  he's  be  knowing  ter  the  trick." 

"  ISTo,  kane  ter  let  yore  Master  die  'fore  you  do  the 
writing.  Hit  will  take  er  long  time  fer  the  letter 
ter  go,  and  hit  will  take  time  fer  Mars  William  ter 
come.  Mars  Lee  might  git  well  or  he  mout  die.  I 
ain't  'sponsible  fer  whut  is  going  ter  happen;  I'm 
'sponsible  fer  whut  is ;  so  you  jest  put  it  down  on  the 
inside  like  Mars  William  said  to."  Aunt  Liza  spread 
the  paper  down  on  a  table  with  the  air  of  one  who 
had  fully  made  up  her  mind  as  to  what  she  would 
do,  regardless  of  consequences. 


I  VEEE'AL  DUNE  193 

fi 

"  I'll  have  ter  git  somethin'  ter  write  with  fust." 
Wending  his  way  to  the  library,  Jim  selected  such 
material  as  he  could  best  use,  and  soon  returned. 
He  pulled  a  chair  up  to  the  table,  and  after  fidgeting 
to  get  in  a  good  writing  position  and  about  the  proper 
distance  from  the  table,  and  after  a  minute  inspec- 
tion of  the  pen  point  against  his  thumb  nail,  he  dipped 
the  pen  in  the  ink  and  said,  with  it  poised  above  the 
paper :   "  ]J^ow,  mur,  whut  must  I  say  ?  " 

"  Say-er  — "  Here  Aunt  Liza  rolled  her  eyes 
upward  and  around  into  an  expression  of  serious 
thought.     ''  Say,  Dear  Mars  William." 

Deae  ]\Iaes  William 

your  par  aint  alein  to  hurt  but  mur  says  he  might  be  took 
wus  and  she  was  afraid  he  mout  be  took  better  before  she 
could  git  the  letter  off  so  she  is  goin  to  giv  it  the  start  of 
the  Docter  Prince  has  got  so  roller  kin  that  I  dassent  turn 
him  out  of  the  stable  Hecter  is  too  lazy  and  lonsom  to  bark 
mur  says  god  bless  you  Mars  Wlilam  and  howdy  your  obedy 
yent  servent  Jim  Jameston. 

Aunt  Liza  watched  the  progress  of  the  letter  with 
great  interest,  and  when  Jim  signed  his  name  with  a 
flourish  and  seized  the  sandbox  and  sprinkled  it  over 
with  the  black  sand,  a  smile  of  intense  satisfaction 
and  pride  in  the  entire  performance  spread  over  her 
brown  face. 

"  'No  kane  to  pepper  rit,  Jim.  If  old  Master 
catches  it  before  de  mail,  I  'low  it  'twill  be  hot 
emuif." 

''  But  ain't  she  fine,  though !  "  said  Jim,  straight- 
ening up  and  eyeing  the  work  critically  by  changing 


194  VEEN'AL  DUISTE 

the  set  of  Lis  head.  "  E'ow  that  is  done  up  all 
right." 

^^  Kin  yon  fold  it  back  like  Mars  William  fixed 
it?'' 

After  this  important  ceremony  was  performed, 
Aunt  Liza  took  it  saying: 

"  ^ow  I  ain't  er-going  ter  chance  it  going  by  you, 
Jim,  'kaze  you  don't  know  which  way  Mars  William 
be." 

"  But,  mur,  I  knows  the  way  ter  put  it  in  the  post 
office." 

"  Post  office  ?  Humph !  Mars  William  ain't  at 
no  post  office.  How  do  I  know  that  man  will  send  it 
ter  him  ?     I'm  going  to  see  Doctor  Bragdon  'bout  it." 

"You'd  better  not;  he'll  tell  Mars  Lee  'bout  it, 
and  then  it  won't  see  daylight  ag'in." 

Aunt  Liza  turned  it  over  and  over  thoughtfully, 
then  said,  "  Jim,  you  say  yer  know  whar  ter  cair 
rit  ? " 

"  Yes'm ;  T  carries  all  the  others." 

"  Well,  here,"  she  said  reluctantly,  "  you  take  it 
right  there  ^thout  breathing,  and  be  sure  you  give  it 
to  the  right  one;  and,  Jim,"  she  called  as  he  started 
off,  "  you  better  hang  round  awhile  to  make  show  it 
gits  off." 

Mr.  Jameston  was  not  a  person  to  make  an  ex- 
hibition of  his  feeling,  and  no  one  knew  how  grieved 
he  had  been  by  his  separation  from  William ;  he  had 
truly  been  getting  worse  each  day.  Having  had 
full  time  to  consider  the  question  on  both  sides,  he 


yee:n'al  dune  195 

was  beginning  to  view  the  matter  in  a  new  light. 
Knowing  that  William  was  intellectually  and  morally 
capable  of  selecting  his  own  lifework,  he  felt  that  he 
should  not  have  pressed  his  parental  authority  with 
so  much  severity,  and  he  now  regretted  that  he  had 
not  let  William  peacefully  follow  the  dictates  of  his 
own  heart  and  conscience.  He  knew  that  William's 
move  had  been  a  sacrifice  in  every  way  —  he  had 
gained  nothing  from  a  worldly  point  of  view.  In- 
deed, he  had  lost  that  which  was  most  dear  to  him  — 
the  old  home,  dear  to  his  heart,  and  his  father,  whom 
he  had  loved  with  the  tenderness  of  a  girl.  From  a 
boy  William  and  the  father  had  grown  into  a  comrade- 
ship that  was  strengthened  by  William's  intellectual 
growth ;  and  now,  had  not  an  occasional  letter  passed 
between  them,  the  old  man  would  not  have  been  able 
to  have  borne  the  separation  as  long  as  he  did. 

When  William  had  written  he  had  made  no  allu- 
sion to  his  work  other  than  saying :  "  I  have  never 
been  very  strong,  but  the  pressing  need  of  my  time 
gives  me  little  occasion  to  pamper  any  indolence  or 
indisposition  on  my  part.  I  have  not  had  a  doctor 
since  I  left  home." 

His  father  had  replied  in  kind,  making  no  allu- 
sion to  the  separation.  He  did  not  say  how  his  heart 
ached  every  day  for  William's  return.  He  wrote  that 
everything  was  going  on  as  usual,  and  mentioned  the 
visit  of  some  grandee  who  had  enlivened  the  city  for 
a  short  while,  and  had  flashed  through  the  Jameston 
mansion  with  unusual  brilliancy  owing  to  the  present 


196  YEKNAL  DUJSTE 

gloom  of  its  halls.  He  said  he  had  read  a  very  com- 
plimentary notice  of  William's  friend,  Charles 
Meeds.  He  did  not  say  that  he  had  also  read  a 
beautiful  tribute  to  his  noble  son,  extolling  the  intel- 
lectual and.  personal  magnetism  and  the  power  of  ora- 
tory and  pure  example  that  destined  the  son  to  take 
high  rank  among  the  great  men  of  the  day,  albeit  it 
marked  the  expanding  of  the  intellect  beyond  the 
physical  strength  of  the  young  man. 

It  was  that  which  had  made  the  old  man's  heart 
fail  him.  William,  his  dear  son,  must  come  home 
to  rest,  and  the  trouble-tossed  mind  and  body  had 
finally  surrendered  to  a  real  indisposition,  and  yielded 
to  the  long  desired  and  often  expressed  wish  of  Aunt 
Liza : 

"  Giv  up  and  go  to  bed ;  yer  hain't  er-gwine  ter  be 
better  tell  yer  git  rid  uv  all  dat  bile." 

The  heart  and  liver  had  similar  functions  in  the 
mind  of  Aunt  Liza.  A  derangement  of  the  liver 
made  one  sick  and  miserable.  Trouble  had  the  same 
effect,  and  a  course  of  medicine  good  for  one  ought 
to  be  good  for  the  other.  So  she  sent  for  the  doctor 
to  treat  "  Ole  Marster's  "  liver,  feeling  sure  of  bene- 
ficial results  all  round,  and  Mars  William's  coming 
would  perfect  the  cure.  So  let  us  hope  after  a  con- 
sultation of  the  two  great  healers  the  bilious  aristo- 
crat pulled  through. 


CHAPTEK  XXIV 

Aujs'T  Liza  Delivers  thei  Contents  of  Her  Mind 

The  required  time  for  a  letter  to  reacli  William  had 
passed,  and  Aimt  Liza  had  commenced  looking  for 
him.  And  Mr.  Jameston  was  more  impatient.  The 
pleasure  of  anticipation  was  freely  indulged  in  from 
early  morning  until  late  at  night.  The  master  had 
not  got  up  from  his  sickness,  but  it  had  been  his 
amusement  for  several  days  to  say  as  Aunt  Liza  came 
in  to  assist  in  making  him  comfortable: 

"  Well,  Aunt  Liza,  I  guess  I  am  able  to  get  up  to- 
day." 

*'  Git  up,  yer  say.  J^ow,  Mars  Lee,  yer  jes^  fixin' 
ter  be  sot  back.  A  collapse  is  nuff  sight  wuss  dan 
bein'  tuck.     Yer  know  yer  ain't  able  ter  git  up.'' 

'^  But  I  am  so  much  better  I  shall  risk  getting  up 
and  sitting  by  the  window  awhile." 

'^  Well,  you  is  better,"  she  reluctantly  assented, 

^'  but  I  am  free  to  confess,  now  you  is  better,  that 

you    was    uncommon    bad    off  —  wusser    than    you 

knowed  yerself.     In  fact,  Mars  Lee,  I  may  as  well 

say  it  out  and  be  done  with  it.     Jim  writ  ter  Mars 

William  like  he  told  him  ter  do.     I  wan't  going  ter 

have  my  blessed  Missus'  child  er  perauch  me  all  the 

days  of  he  life  for  keepina;  him  away  from  his  par's 

197 


198  YEEl^AL  DUNE 

funeral,  just  outen  tlie  bigitrj  of  his  family.  When 
folks  come  nigh  unto  death,  Mars  Lee,  hit's  time  ter 
do  away  with  bigity  disfigerations."  Having  deliv- 
ered herself  of  her  mind,  which  was  done  very  hur- 
riedly, approaching  the  door  as  she  spoke,  she  made  a 
hasty  exit.  Only  in  extreme  cases  did  she  ever  "  talk 
up  to  Mars  Lee,  as  big  as  de  best,  for  when  he  was 
sot,  he  was  as  stiff  and  unhandy  as  er  hot  poker." 

If  Aunt  Liza  had  not  closed  the  door  so  quickly, 
to  be  rid  of  Mars  Lee's  presumed  disapprobation, 
she  would  have  heard  a  lively  little  chuckle,  and  Mars 
Lee  could  scarcely  get  his  face  straight  and  sufficiently 
dignified  to  ask  Eben  as  he  came  in : 

"  Eben,  what  is  that  I  hear  about  William  being 
written  for?  I  was  not  sufficiently  ill  to  warrant 
such  a  measure." 

"  I  didn't  have  nothin'  ter  do  with  it,  Mars  Lee. 
I  didn't  know  'bout  it  tell  it  was  done  sent,  and  you 
must  make  'lowances  for  Liza,  Mars  Lee ;  you  might 
er-looked  sicker  dan  you  was." 

Mr.  Jameston  wondered  if  his  self -consciousness 
made  him  sensitive,  or  if  there  was  really  sly  humor 
in  Eben's  accusation. 

When  Aunt  Liza  got  outside,  she  met  Jim  in  the 
hall.  Holding  up  both  hands  and  rolling  her  eyes 
up,  she  exclaimed : 

"  La,  Jim,  I'm  naterly  weak !  Lemme  set  down. 
I've  jest  dis  minit  told  Ole  Marster,  and  left !  " 

"  Told  old  Marster  what  ?  "  asked  Jim  unsympa- 
thetically. 


yee:n'al  dun^e  199 

"  What !  Xow  ain't  dat  mo'  like  er  nigger. 
What  on  God's  yearth  did  I  have  ter  tell  'im,  but  that 
you  writ  dat  letter !  " 

'^  Good  Lord,  mur,  is  he  mad  ?  "  asked  Jim,  show- 
ing more  white  teeth  than  trepidation,  in  a  broad 
grin. 

^'  I  didn't  wait  ter  find  out.  If  he's  mad  ernuff  ter 
be  sot  back  tell  de  chile  gits  here,  I  'low  we  can  stand 
it." 

"  Well,  he  needn't  blame  it  on  me.  Mars  William 
said  do  it,  and  you  said  do  it." 

"  Br  ess  God !  I'd  say  do  it  ag'in,  fer  dat  mat- 
ter." 

"  Another  thing,"  said  Jim,  "  he  is  too  weak  to 
straighten  up  and  look  down  on  you,  and  that's  all 
he  ever  does.  It  used  to  scare  me  like  the  devil,  but 
I've  got  taller  myself  now,"  and  he  straightened  him- 
self, and  looked  down  on  his  mammy,  mimicking 
the  stem  dignity  of  Mars  Lee  so  well  that  Nellie,  a 
housegirl,  who  had  come  in  sight  of  the  pantomime, 
had  to  stuff  her  apron  in  her  mouth  to  keep  from 
laughing  too  loud,  and  his  mammy's  restrained  mer- 
riment brought  the  tears. 

"  Look  here,  you  niggers,  git  furder  from  Mars 
Lee's  door  wid  yer  giggling,"  said  Aunt  Liza,  mov- 
ing to  the  dining-room. 

As  soon  as  jSTellie  could  speak  for  laughing  she 
said: 

"  Jim,  I  'clare  fore  God,  when  I  see  you  standing 
in  the  passage,   I  thought  'twas  Marster's  shadow 


200  VEEIvTAL  DUISTE 

flung  on  de  wall,  and  I  turn  clare  round  ter  see  whar 
Mars  Lee  was.     Te-he-he!" 

"  You  let  Marster  ketch  yer  making  game  uv  him, 
boy,  yer  won't  cast  nuther  shadow  soon." 

T^ellie's  giggling  continued,  as  Jim  further  enter- 
tained his  audience  by  going  through  a  number  of 
Chesterfieldean  graces  peculiar  to  his  master,  such 
as  entering  the  dining-room,  asking  a  blessing,  and 
drinking  a  toast. 

K'ellie's  paroxysms  of  smothered  laughter  and 
Jim's  theatricals  were  aggravated  by  Aunt  Liza's 
remarks : 

"  You  let  Marster  ketch  you  in  his  cheer,  boy ! 
Jim !  don't  you  dare  tetch  dat  decanter.  Mars  Lee 
toast  yer  hide !  " 

^'  Jim,"  said  N'ellie,  "  time  fer  yer  to  stop  now. 
Whoever  heard  of  handing  round  de  toast  in  er  wine- 
glass !  "  and  to  do  the  subject  justice,  in  her  restrained 
laughter,  I^ellie  showed  every  tooth  in  her  head. 

"  Look  here  now!  you  chillun  quit  projickin'  and 
clare  outen  here.  ISTuff's  ernuff,"  said  Aunt  Liza, 
growing  tired  of  their  foolishness. 

"  Well,  x^unt  Liza,  Jim  would  make  a  dog  laugh." 
"  If  yer  kin  rub  dem  knives  as  good  as  yer  kin 
laugh  at  Jim's  tomfoolery,  hit'U  do.  Go  long  wid 
yer,  Jim,  and  let  de  gal  erlone.  She  can't  do  her 
work  fer  gigglin'  at  you.  Mars  Lee  gittin'  up ;  bet- 
ter see  ter  his  boots." 

"  You  ain't  looking  for  Mars  William  this  morn- 
ing, are  you  ? "  asked  Eben,  poking  his  smiling  face 


VEENAL  DU:N'E  201 

in  at  the  dining-room  door.  "  Sounds  like  you  were 
getting  ready  for  a  feast." 

''  Dese  fool  niggers,  Eben.  I  can't  learn  'em  no 
quality  manners  'cept  before  the  white  folks.  Just 
let  white  folks  turn  their  backs  and  they  turn  to  fool 
niggers  ag'in." 

^'  Kow  you  got  that  backwards,  mur.  I  puts  on  my 
best  manners  when  the  white  folks  turns  their  backs." 

"You'd  better,"  said  Xellie.  " 'Twon't  do  ter 
have  two  Mars  Lees  strutting  round  here  tergedder, 
eating  of  toast  outen  a  wineglass.  One  at  er  time, 
Lord !  " 

Xellie's  hilarity  had  reached  its  climax.  Just  as 
she  finished  speaking  she  had  throAvn  her  hand  back 
in  which  she  held  a  knife.  The  knife  struck  a  beau- 
tiful cut-glass  tumbler,  knocking  it  from  the  table 
and  breaking  it  in  pieces. 

Eben  looked  regretful.  Aunt  Liza  wrathful,  but 
Jim  was  jubilant.  "  Cutting  the  pigeon  wing " 
lightly  in  the  doorway,  he  pointed  at  the  broken  glass, 
mimicking  Xellie :  "  One  at  a  time,  Lord !  " 

Xellie  out  of  self-defense  crawled  under  the  table 
to  keep  Aunt  Liza  from  seeing  her  laugh. 

"  You,  Kellie,  come  from  under  that  table,  you 
scaddleous  nigger!  God  er  Mighty  knows  yer  ain't 
worf  yer  vit'als.  That  makes  two  things  you  broke 
this  week.  Well,  when  there  ain't  none  of  'em  left, 
den  dere'll  be  a  reck'ning." 

"  Aunt  Liza,  I  ain't  'gine  ter  break  nare  nother 
one.     'Twan't   me  nohow;    I   never   totch   it.     Hit 


202  yEENAL  DUi^E 

wan't  sitting  up  thar  good,  nuther."  And  IN'ellie 
crawled  out  with  an  assumed  expression  of  serious- 
ness that  wasn't  large  enough  to  cover  the  corners  of 
her  mouth  or  weighty  enough  to  take  the  twinkle 
from  her  eyes.  ^'  Just  as  like  as  not  'twas  cracked, 
anyhow.  Dat  what  comes  of  having  chany  so  fine 
yer  can't  see  it,  and  hit  breaks  'fore  you  tetch 
hit." 

"  You  can  see  hit  now,  can't  yer  ? "  asked  Aunt 
Liza  with  supreme  disgust.  "  Well,  take  up  do 
pieces.  Come  back  here !  you  don't  call  that  tuck  up, 
do  you  ?  Blind  as  I  am,  I  can  see  yer  ain't  half  done 
it.  Look  dar,  under  de  cheer!  dar's  a  piece  shining 
by  the  table  leg.  God  er  Mighty  knows  I'd  rather 
do  a  thing  myself  than  ter  see  one  of  you  young  gals 
messing  round.  I  was  smart  when  I  was  er  gal 
and  spry  as  er  kitten." 

Kellie  looked  doubtfully  at  Aunt  Liza.  "  Hit's 
been  so  long  you've  forgot." 

"  I  ain't  forgot  my  manners,  anyhow,  and  if  you 
keep  on  like  you've  started,  you  won't  forgit  nuther, 
'kase  you'll  never  have  none  ter  forgit.  Go  long 
with  ye,  an'  stop  argnfying  with  your  betters.  1 
trying  to  rub  some  of  the  nigger  offen  you,  and  you 
like  a  wild  colt,  while  I  breaking  you  in,  you  break- 
ing up  everything  in  the  house,  leastwise  ever'thing 
you  tetch.  Go  long  tell  Polly  to  send  in  breakfast. 
See  if  yer  can  do  that  'thout  breaking  yer  neck." 

"  Te-he-he !     Aunt     Lizy,     you     is     so     funny ! 


VEEIiTAL  DUNE  203 

I  mighty  nigh  kill  myself  when  I'm  where  you  is, 
Te-he-he !  " 

"  Go  long,  gal !  You  laugh  and  poke  fun  at  me, 
ole  as  I  am,  I'll  break  somethin',  and  it  won't  be  a 
glass  nuther." 


CHAPTEK  XXV 

Mars  Lee's  Anticipation 

Mb.  Jameston  was  now  so  nearly  recovered  as  to 
go  into  the  library.  Here  he  sat  by  the  window  over- 
looking the  lawn.  After  his  confinement  it  was  very 
restful  to  lounge  in  a  great  chair  and  watch  the 
vehicles  and  pedestrians  go  by.  The  street  was  near 
enough  to  vary  the  monotony,  yet  too  far  to  be 
worried  by  recognition  or  noise.  The  library  was  a 
large,  airy,  and  well-lighted  apartment,  handsomely 
furnished.  In  it,  as  well  as  each  of  the  other  apart- 
ments, wealth,  combined  with  cultured  taste,  had 
perfectly  appointed  its  furnishing. 

The  convalescent  man  was  at  that  state  of  mental 
lassitude  when  one  has  no  inclination  to  select  an 
occupation.  The  tension  of  vital  energy  had  slack- 
ened, and  now  it  required  an  effort  to  even  gradually 
wind  its  sagging  threads  up  to  the  point  of  exertion. 
So  at  present  he  was  content  to  recline  in  dressing- 
go^n,  and  slippers,  while  Eben  noiselessly  moved  in 
and  out.  If  Mars  Lee  cleared  his  throat,  Eben  knew 
it  was  a  prelude  to  a  question  or  a  commission. 
Eaithful  consideration  for  the  comfort  of  his  master 
was  better  than  the  call  bell  near  at  hand.     Eben 

was  always  at  hand.     These  two  men  had  been  boys 

204 


VEENAL  DUNE  205 

together.  Eben  had  always  accompanied  Mars  Lee 
in  his  rounds  of  pleasure,  he  had  shared  his  sports 
and  his  travels,  and  been  his  chief  man  about  the 
house  since  his  marriage.  After  the  death  of  the 
greatly  loved  mistress  Eben's  sympathetic  reverence 
for  his  master's  great  sorrow  and  gloomy  loneliness 
was  that  of  a  faithful  guardian.  Eben  looked  after 
his  master's  interest  with  honest  solicitude,  and  it 
was  requited  by  a  generosity  and  appreciation  that 
can  never  be  understood  except  in  a  similar  situ- 
ation. 

"  Ahem  !     Eben,  what  time  does  the  stage  pass  ?  " 

"  About  one  o'clock,  sir,  when  the  weather  is  fine 
as  it  is  now.  You  have  been  sitting  up  so  long,  sir, 
shall  I  bring  you  a  glass  of  wine ;  or  had  you  better 
lie  down  awhile,  sir  ?  " 

^'  I'll  take  the  wine,  Eben.  Liza  tried  her  best  to 
keep  me  do^vn  until  William  came,  but  my  constitu- 
tion was  too  strong  for  her."  And  he  laughed  good- 
humoredly. 

Eben  smiled  in  sympathy  with  his  master's  humor 
and,  after  replacing  the  wine  service,  walked  to  the 
door  and  peered  do^vn  the  street  to  listen  for  the 
notes  of  the  stage  bugle.  His  faithful  heart  was 
getting  uneasy,  lest  poor  Mars  Lee  should  be  disap- 
pointed at  last.  Suppose  the  letter  never  got  there! 
Well,  the  thing  had  worked  so  well  as  far  as  Mars  Lee 
was  concerned,  that  if  that  letter  did  not  get  there, 
another  should  be  written.  Mars  William  had  to 
come  now,  after  Mars  Lee  started  to  look  for  him. 


206  VEENAL  DUNE 

Aunt  Liza  was  impatient  and  uneasy  too,  and  came 
out  with  a  broom,  making  a  feint  of  sweeping  the 
front  porch. 

''  Eben,  do  you  reckon  he  has  had  time  to  get  the 
letter,  and  come?  'Case  if  he  has  had  time,  he's 
coming,"  she  said  confidently. 

^^  Yes,  Liza,  I  think  he  has,  and  I  hope  to  God  he 
will  come.  Old  Marster's  setting  there  by  the  win- 
dow a-watching.  I  couldn't  stand  seeing  him  let 
down  again." 

"  He  oughter  be  let  down,  and  that  hard,  too,  if 
'twan't  for  Mars  William  not  coming.  He  no  busi- 
ness let  him  go." 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  him,  Liza.  The  head  of 
the  house  must  stand  up  for  the  greatness  of  the 
house." 

"  'No  use  in  being  too  bigerty,  Eben.  I  seen  the 
Methidy  parson,  and  he  looked  like  a  gentleman. 
How  come  he  ain't  as  good  as  t'other  gentleman  ?  " 

"  They  are  too  good,  Liza,  that's  what's  the  mat- 
ter; they  don't  keep  the  right  kind  of  company  for 
Marster  —  too  pokey.  He  wanted  Mars  William  to 
have  a  good  time,  like  he  always  had." 

*^  Well,  yer  ain't  erbleeged  ter  go  to  the  devil  ter 
have  a  good  time,  is  yer  ?  " 

"  You  see,  the  parson  preaches  that  way  —  about 
the  rich  can't  go  to  heaven  any  more  than  the  eye  of 
a  needle  can  go  through  a  camel !  " 

"  Good  God  omighty,  Eben !  that's  why  Mars  Wil- 
liam giV  it  all  up." 


YEEI!TAL  DUKE  207 

"  Yes/'  said  Eben.  "  I  don't  know  how  'twill  turn 
out." 

'^  Well,  Eben,  old  Marster  took  my  telling  him  I 
had  sent  fer  Mars  William  better  than  I  thought  he 
would.  I  'spected  he'd  be  biling  hot,  and  blow  the 
whole  kit  up  Salt  Eiver." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Eben,  laughing  softly,  "  what 
you  thought  was  coming  out  of  the  bung  with  a 
pop  had  been  leaking  at  the  spicket  all  the  week;  I 
caculate  he  had  tracked  you  all  the  way." 

Just  then  the  clear  notes  of  a  bugle  fell  like  sweet- 
est music  on  the  listening  ear.  It  was  the  signal  of 
the  approaching  stage-coach. 

Eben  jumped  from  the  post  against  which  he  had 
been  leaning,  and  went  down  to  the  gate. 

Aunt  Liza  retired  into  the  background,  but  to  a 
point  from  which  she  could  watch  for  the  stage. 

Mr.  Jameston  started  up  hastily,  his  heart  beating 
rapidly.  Then  the  possibility  of  William  not  com- 
ing caused  a  reaction,  and  he  sank  back  into  the  great 
chair  anxiously  expectant.  With  eager  eyes  he 
again  watches  the  coach,  sees  the  lumbering  vehi- 
cle swing  up  to  the  gate.  Gad !  perhaps  it  is  only  a 
package  to  be  delivered.  But  no,  kind  old  Eben  has 
caught  a  glimpse  of  William  and  hastens  back  to  in- 
form the  old  Master. 

"  All  right,  sir !     Mars  William  has  come !  " 

Thoughtful  old  Eben!  He  now  hurries  down  to 
the  gate,  with  a  happy,  smiling  face,  to  relieve  Wil- 
liam's anxiety  as  to  his  father. 


208  yEE:N^AL  DUNE 

"  Mars  Lee's  up,  and  looking  fur  you." 

William,  his  face  brightening,  said :  "  I  am  glad 
to  find  him  so  much  better.  And  the  rest  of  you, 
Uncle  Eben,  all  well  ?  "  shaking  the  old  man's  hand. 

^^  Everything's  all  right  now,  sir,  since  you  have 
got  back." 

'^  Thank  you.  Uncle  Eben.  I  am  glad  to  get 
back."  He  hastens  in  two  steps  at  a  time,  up  the 
flight  of  steps,  and  father  and  son  .are  folded  in  each 
other's  arms. 

"  Father,  I  am  relieved  to  find  you  so  much  im- 
proved." 

"  Son,  I  am  so  much  better  for  your  having  come. 
I  had  quite  a  bilious  attack.  Your  black  mammy 
could  not  stand  your  continued  absence  any  more  than 
I  could,  so  we  gradually  gravitated  toward  the  way  to 
get  you  home.  I  had  to  get  sick  out  of  self-defense, 
for  I  think  a  little  more  and  Aunt  Liza  would  have 
dosed  me  beyond  recovery." 

Aunt  Liza  was  highly  gratified  a  little  later  when 
William  thanked  her  for  letting  him  hear  so  promptly 
of  his  father's  illness,  and  the  good  care  that  had 
nursed  him  back  to  health. 

It  was  a  small  dinner  party,  father  and  son,  but  it 
was  a  happy  one. 

"  What  kind  of  trip  did  you  have  ?  " 

"  The  best  I  ever  had,  I  had  such  good  company." 

"  It  must  have  been,  to  make  a  stage  journey  even 
tolerable.     What  company  had  you  ?  " 

"  Charlie  Meeds.     He  is  not  only  very  intellectual, 


YEEI^AL  DUNE  209 

but  as  jolly  as  a  boy.  He  can  say  more  quaint 
things  than  any  boy,  for  he  is  brimful  of  humor. 
We  would  forget  to  count  the  mile-posts  in  our  ani- 
mated conversation,  and  had  I  not  been  anxious 
about  you  it  would  have  been  a  most  enjoyable  trip." 

^'  Why  did  you  not  bring  him  in  with  you  ?  I 
like  good  company  myself.'^ 

"  I  would  have  been  overjoyed  to  have  done  so  had 
I  known  it  would  have  been  agreeable.  He  has  been 
such  a  good  friend  to  me,  I  would  like  you  to  know 
him.'' 

^'  Where  is  he  stopping  ?  " 

"  At  Mcllhenny's.  His  circuit  extends  up  here. 
He  preaches  at Chapel  Saturday,  and  here  Sun- 
day." 

"  Humph !     A  parson,  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  his  day. 
The  preachers  are  not  all  after  the  order  of  Parson 
Brown,"  said  William,  with  a  quizzical  glance  at 
his  father.  "  It  is  not  simply  the  preacher  I  want 
you  to  know,  or  because  he  has  been  a  friend  to  me ; 
but    the    interesting    gentleman.     Father,    let    him 


come." 


There  was  a  look  of  gentle  entreaty  on  the  face  of 
his  only  child,  so  like  that  of  his  sweet  wife,  the 
proud  man  could  not  be  stubborn,  and  the  consent 
was  given  so  softly  that  William  smiled  his  acknowl- 
edgment through  misty  eyes,  feeling  in  this  conces- 
sion how  perfect  and  complete  was  the  reconciliation 
between  them. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

Mr.  Jamestoi^  Goes  to  the  Meeting-Housei 

Sunday  morning  at  breakfast  William  ventured 
to  ask  his  father  if  he  felt  able  to  go  to  church.  "  I 
think  it  a  good  opportunity  for  you  to  size  up  Charlie 
Meeds,  and  if  you  are  not  pleasantly  impressed  I 
shall  not  urge  you  to  meet  him." 

^'  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  stand  the  long  service 
or  not  —  the  churches  are  so  bare  and  comfortless," 
replied  the  invalid  doubtfully. 

"  We  could  retire  before  the  close  of  the  service, 
if  you  were  too  uncomfortable,"  ventured  William, 
having  such  faith  in  Mr.  Meeds'  powers  as  to  believe 
that  leaving  would  not  be  necessary. 

"  Well,"  agreed  his  father,  "  I  rather  like  the  idea 
of  getting  out.     Suppose  we  give  it  a  trial  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  the  ride,  the  fresh  air,  the  mental 
process  of  criticism  will  be  beneficial  and  strengthen- 
ing," said  William,  with  ready  tact,  while  he  won- 
dered at  his  father's  ready  compliance. 

The   fact   was,    William's    firmness    in    adopting 

Methodism  and  his  high  esteem  for  his  friend,  had 

not  only  made  his  father  curious,  but  had  interested 

him  as  things  important  and  dear  to  his  son,  who, 

210 


YEEl^AL  DUNE  211 

as  we  have  seen,  filled  the  older  man's  heart  with  ten- 
derness. If  his  fastidious  son  William  could  be  a 
happy  and  enthusiastic  member  of  any  organization, 
and  fraternize  with  congenial  pleasure  with  its  mem- 
bers, why  should  he  stand  aloof  ?  No,  he  would  not 
pursue  any  course  through  ignorance  and  blind 
prejudice;  he  would  look  into  the  matter  himself, 
and  be  able  to  decide  his  course  with  more  conscien- 
tious exactness.  If  the  young  preacher's  doctrine 
and  manner  displeased  him,  he  would  not  invite  him 
to  his  house  or  have  his  exclusiveness  broken  into  by 
low-bred  associates,  no  matter  what  strange  views 
William  might  advance. 

This  gives  two  interesting  points  from  which  to 
view  Methodism  at  this  era.  First,  its  presentation ; 
second,  its  acceptance.  As  the  creed  advanced  there 
were  difficulties  to  be  overcome  peculiar  to  the  era 
and  the  people.  There  is  an  inherent  something  in 
man  antagonistic  to  advice,  and  to  be  dictated  to 
with  an  assumption  of  authority  is  often  viewed  as 
an  insult.  We  see  it  in  Elisha's  advice  to  Naman; 
in  Paul  as  a  new  convert  accused  of  being  a  pestilent 
fellow,  a  mover  of  sedition,  a  ringleader  of  the  sect 
of  the  Nazarenes.  We  can  see  it  in  Christ's  advice 
to  the  rich  young  man.  So  we  may  expect  to  find 
it  in  the  disciples  of  Methodism. 

There  is  also  a  dislike  to  innovation.  As  a  general 
thing  people  cling  to  doctrines  and  principles  of  their 
forefathers,  and  are  distrustful  of  revolutions. 

Then  the  pride  and  bigotry  of  the  English  Church 


212  YEEi^TAL  DU:^rE 

had  reigned  supreme  so  long  that  its  principles  had 
taken  deep  root,  and  the  Church  was  not  to  be  shaken 
by  every  passing  wind.  Its  various  branches  had 
gro^vn  further  apart  in  its  upward  growth,  but  the 
sap  that  nourished  the  main  body  ran  through  each 
limb,  however  small  a  twig  or  however  far  it  spread 
out;  a  tiny  vein  of  the  same  vitality  nourished  and 
sustained  it.  And  so  it  was  that  the  generations 
branching  out  from  the  old  stock,  inheriting  its 
pride  and  prejudice,  spread  its  beliefs  from  one  con- 
tinent to  another  in  its  upward  search  for  light;  but 
in  proportion  to  its  healthy  absorption,  so  will  the 
impurities  of  bygone  errors  drop  off  as  defective 
fruit;  so  in  course  of  time  we  have  new  doctrines 
and  new  generations  of  believers. 

To  engraft  one  upon  the  other  required  skill  and 
opportunity,  and  here  was  the  chief  difficulty  —  all 
were  not  skillful,  nor  would  all  volunteer  opportuni- 
ties. 

It  may  seem  odd,  at  the  first  thought,  that  the 
ignorant  generally  accept  a  plausible  tenet  more 
readily  than  the  intelligent.  The  ignorant  will  re- 
ceive ocular  demonstration  and  spiritual  enlighten- 
ment unquestioned,  as  the  blind  man  who  said, 
"  Whether  he  be  a  sinner  or  no,  I  know  not ;  one  thing 
I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind  now  I  see."  And 
when  he  had  been  questioned  repeatedly,  and  the 
friend  who  had  restored  his  sight  was  reviled,  he 
said  in  his  defense,  "  If  this  man  were  not  of  God 
he  could  do  nothing."     And  after  a  simple  talk  with 


VEEJSrAL  DUIS^E  •  213 

Jesus,  lie  said,  "  Lord,  I  believe,"  and  he  worshiped 
Him. 

Xot  so  with  the  better  class  of  Pharisees.  They 
asked,  "  Is  not  this  he  that  sat  and  begged  ? 
How  were  thine  eves  opened  ?  Where  is  he  ? " 
They  asked  him  how  he  had  received  his  sight. 
'^  This  man  is  not  of  God,  because  he  keepeth  not  the 
Sabbath.  How  can  a  sinner  do  such  miracles  ? 
What  sayest  thou  of  him  ?  Is  this  your  son,  who  ye 
say  was  born  blind  ?  How  then  doth  he  now  see  ? 
Give  God  the  praise ;  we  know  that  this  man  is  a  sin- 
ner. What  did  he  to  thee  ?  How  opened  he  thine 
eyes  ?  Thou  art  his  disciple,  we  are  Moses'  disciples. 
We  know  that  God  spake  unto  Moses,  as  for  this 
fellow,  we  know  not  from  whence  he  is." 

The  intelligent  brain  is  too  speculative  for  spon- 
taneity; it  takes  time  for  investigation,  and  some- 
times the  paths  of  research  lead  into  labyrinths  from 
which  the  finite  mind  cannot  find  its  way  out  alone, 
for  though  the  mind  may  be  active,  it  needs  the 
esoteric  guidance  of  the  heart  to  give  the  passes  and 
to  fit  the  keys  in  to  its  hidden  treasures.  It  is  not 
wise  to  overlook  weighty  nuggets  in  impatient  search 
for  dross  —  as  did  the  Pharisees.  They  could  have 
found  the  greatest  living  Man,  identified  as  the  one 
who  had  restored  sight  to  a  person  bom  blind,  and 
because  of  this  great  power  believed  that  he  was  sent 
of  God.  They  certainly  had  no  means  by  which  to 
prove  the  position  they  took  against  Him. 

Mr.   Jameston  was  at  least  wise  enough  to  give 


214  yEE:N'AL  DUNE 

the  matter  a  hearing.  He  belonged  to  the  class  of 
men  at  that  time  who  were  satisfied  with  themselves 
and  their  environment.  Any  move  toward  their  en- 
lightenment seemed  superfluous.  They  had  their 
libraries  of  valuable  books,  and  they  liked  to  hear  a 
fine  discourse  on  any  subject.  Temperance  lectures 
were  needed  in  the  slums,  w^here  men  made  brutes  of 
themselves,  and  there  really  were  so  many  miserable 
sinners  that  somebody  ought  to  expostulate  with 
them  —  and  hence  their  liberality  to  such  work. 

They  were  wont  to  view  Protestant  preachers  as 
so  many  young  Elihus  —  so  full  of  matter,  the  spirit 
so  constraineth,  that  they  were  ready  to  burst  like 
new  bottles,  and  will  speak  to  be  refreshed,  "  Who  do 
not  accept  any  man's  person,  neither  give  flattering 
titles  unto  them  " ;  and  alas !  who  said  that,  "  Great 
men  were  not  always  wise,  neither  do  the  aged  under- 
stand judgment." 

So  it  was  really  no  small  concession  on  Mr.  James- 
ton's  part  to  accompany  his  son  to  the  meeting-house. 

When  their  handsome  carriage  drove  up,  with  its 
pretentious  coachman  and  footman,  open-eyed  curi- 
osity was  visible  on  the  faces  of  many  congregated 
about  the  church  door,  for  though  they  had  a  rising 
young  pastor,  the  congregation  was  composed  chiefly 
of  the  plainer  people.  Many  of  the  higher  class 
were,  however,  beginning  to  find  out  the  pastor's 
worth,  and  as  Mr.  Jameston  went  in  he  noticed  sev- 
eral old  acquaintances  seated  about  the  church,  and 


VEEIs^AL  DUNE  215 

he  made  the  mental  observation  that  if  Worthing- 
ton  could  stand  it  he  guessed  he  could. 

Mr.  Meeds  had  not  preached  there  before,  but 
Jonathan  Egbert,  knowing  his  powers,  had  adver- 
tised his  appointment,  both  from  his  pulpit  and  the 
weekly  paper,  and  endorsed  him  on  the  street  and 
everywhere  he  went,  so  that  unusual  interest  was 
worked  up ;  and  many,  like  Mr.  Jameston,  had  gone 
out  that  morning  for  the  first  time.  He  noticed 
with  growing  interest  that  in  the  already  well-filled 
church  places  had  to  be  found  for  several  of  his 
especial  friends. 

■When  Mr.  Egbert  and  Mr.  Meeds  walked  up  the 
aisle  the  sympathy  of  the  congregation  was  enlisted 
by  the  small  stature  and  apparent  youth  of  the  new 
preacher.  When  seated  in  the  high-boxed  pulpit  he 
was  lost  sight  of  by  the  audience. 

After  Mr.  Egbert  had  opened  the  services  by  a 
fervent  prayer,  and  the  congregation  had  sung  a 
hymn  full  of  spiritual  melody,  Mr.  Meeds  took  his 
place.  He  was  just  tall  enough  to  lean  with  folded 
arms  on  the  sacred  desk,  his  boyish-looking  arms,  and 
hands  as  small  and  delicate  as  a  girl's,  but  the  oval 
face,  with  dark  expressive  eyes  and  brow  of  such 
intellectual  proportions,  stamped  him  as  a  learned 
man ;  and  when  he  said,  "  Hear  the  word  of  the 
Lord,"  there  was  some  psychical  influence  in  tone  and 
manner  that  baffles  description.  It  proclaimed  him 
the  messenger  of  the  Lord.     The  text  was,  "  Then 


216  VEENAL  DUNE 

saith  the  Lord  unto  his  disciples,  The  harvest  truly 
is  plenteous,  but  the  laborers  are  few.  Pray  ye, 
therefore,  the  Lord  of  the  harvest  that  he  will  send 
forth  laborers  into  his  harvest." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  attention  of  the  con- 
gregation was  riveted.  In  the  early  years  of  Mr. 
Meeds'  ministry  the  fire  of  genius  illumined  his 
progress,  so  it  did  not  take  a  prophet  to  foretell  his 
success ;  and  the  grand  depths  of  his  exposition  of  the 
Divine  Law  entranced  his  hearers. 

Throughout  his  entire  ministry,  he  had  a  winning 
grace  peculiarly  his  own  that  those  who  heard  him 
never  forgot,  and  his  kind  heart  reaching  out  in 
brotherlv  love  to  all  founded  ''  The  Church  of  the 
Strangers  "  in  the  great  American  metropolis. 

'Now,  leaning  on  the  desk  in  his  easy  graceful  way, 
expressive  of  the  reverence  and  obedience  of  Samuel's 
"  Here  I  am.  Lord,"  he  prayed,  not  merely  the  peti- 
tion of  a  literary  man  addressed  to  the  audience,  in 
the  hearing  of  the  Almighty,  but  a  prayer  imbued 
with  such  irresistible  earnestness  that  the  congrega- 
tion felt,  and  God  heard. 

At  its  close  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Jameston  met  those  of 
his  son.  "  Talented  young  man,"  he  said  briefly, 
"  I'll  go  to  the  carriage  with  Worthington ;  see  if 
your  friend  will  go  home  with  us." 

As  the  two  old  friends  waited  at  the  carrias^e,  Wil- 
liam  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Meeds.  "  I  am  commis- 
sioned by  my  father  to  take  you  home  with  me.  You 
can  come  ?  "  he  said  inquiringly. 


VEEjS^AL  dune  217 

''  I  am  sorry,  William,  but  I  promised  Doctor 
Bragdon  to  go  with  Brother  Egbert  there  to  dine. 
Was  that  gTand  old  gentleman  with  you  your 
father  ? " 

^'  Yes,"  said  William.  "  I  am  anxious  for  you  to 
meet  him.     He  is  waiting  for  us  at  the  carriage." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Mr.  Meeds  gladly,  "  I  will  go  and 
give  my  excuses  in  person." 

'^  Charles,  this  is  my  father  and  Mr.  Worthington," 
said  William.  Lifting  his  hat  from  his  head,  and 
holding  it  deferentially,  the  young  man  shook  hands 
with  both  gentlemen  in  the  order  introduced,  and  in 
his  pleasant,  gTaceful  way  made  his  excuses. 

It  was,  however,  arranged  that  he  should  return 
with  them  from  the  night  service.  The  text  selected 
for  that  sermon  was,  "  Blessed  is  the  man  whom 
thou  choosest,  and  causest  to  approach  unto  thee 
that  he  may  dwell  in  thy  courts.  We  shall  be  satis- 
fied with  the  goodness  of  thy  house,  even  of  thy 
holy  temple." 

The  subject  was  handled  in  so  masterly  a  manner 
that  the  gentle  tones  of  the  young  divine  were  as 
potent  in  demolishing  the  walls  of  prejudice  against 
the  sacred  calling  as  the  trumpet  blast  of  Joshua  at 
the  wall  of  Jericho. 

In  the  mind  of  Lee  Jameston  a  new  dignity  seemed 
to  clothe  even  Parson  Brown,  and  never  again  was 
he  heard  to  say  aught  against  William's  chosen  work. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  great  friendship  be- 
tween Mr.  Jameston  and  his  son's  friend,  and,  as  his 


218  YEEISTAL  DUKE 

knowledge  of  Methodism  increased  and  his  acquaint- 
ance with  its  ministers  extended,  his  home  with  its 
magnificent  hospitality  was  opened  to  them,  as  was 
his  heart  and  purse. 


CHAPTER  XXYII 

Mr.    Jamestoi^    Is   Favoeably   Impressed   "With 

THE,   PeJEACHERS 

^'  Mr.  Meeds,"  said  his  host,  "  I  think  that  you 
and  William  put  your  heads  together  over  those  two 
sermons  I  heard  you  preach,  for  my  especial  con- 
version." 

^'  No,  sir,"  replied  Meeds,  smiling,  "  I  had  no  idea 
that  you  would  be  there;  but  I  thought  that  if  the 
brainy  men  of  Petersburg  had  such  a  poor  opinion 
of  the  calling  and  the  laborers,  that  something  must 
be  the  matter  with  the  laborers ;  hence  the  prayer  for 
more  —  of  another  kind,"  he  added  so  humorously 
that  all  laughed. 

"  I  don't  know  about  another  kind,"  said  the  older 
man.  ^'  They  are  badly  misrepresented.  I  think 
the  difficulty  lies  in  not  having  a  fair  hearing.  That 
fellow  Egbert  is  a  brick.  By  George !  he  rattles  off 
his  prayers  as  if  he  thought  the  Lord  wouldn't  wait. 
I  tell  you  they  are  worth  rattling,  too." 

"  William,  did  you  ever  hear  what  Colonel  Chas- 
seur said  about  Egbert's  praying?  He  likened  it  to 
pouring  peas  on  a  dry  hide." 

"  'Not  a  bad  illustration,"  laughed  William. 

219 


220  VEEITAL  DUNE 

"  Mr.  Jameston,  do  you  know  Jonathan  well  ?  " 
"  'No,  but  I  intend  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance." 
"  You  will  find  him  a  most  agreeable  companion, 
he  has  such  a  keen  sense  of  humor.  I  have  seen  him 
enjoy  a  joke  so  well  that  he  would  laugh  himself  into 
a  state  of  exhaustion,  but  this  characteristic  that  is 
a  source  of  amusement  to  his  friends  is  sometimes 
very  awkward  for  him.  He  was  called  into  the 
country  to  preach  a  funeral,  ?^here  he  found  quite  a 
crowd  collected.  Upon  his  arrival  the  crowd  followed 
him  in  to  where  the  body  lay.  The  coffin  was  in  the 
middle  of  a  large  room,  and  all  the  chairs  arranged 
around  were  soon  taken.  Then  a  rural  gentleman, 
who  seemed  to  be  a  master  of  ceremonies,  would 
bring  in  chairs  as  other  friends  arrived,  then  seat 
himself  in  one  and  lean  back  against  the  door.  Sev- 
eral times  he  had  gone  through  the  same  performance 
and  reseated  himself,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had 
excelled  in  his  department.  There  had  been  a 
flourish  of  trumpets  in  everything  he  had  done,  and 
the  eagerness  with  which  he  would  rise  to  welcome  the 
incoming  guest  could  not  be  surpassed,  unless  it  was 
by  the  aplomb  with  which  he  would  reseat  himself. 
Egbert  had  just  taken  his  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
coffin,  with  open  book,  when  again  the  officious  usher 
bounced  up  and  beckoned  to  a  couple  of  young  men, 
who  declined  to  come  nearer  than  the  window  opening 
on  the  porch.  But  the  reckless  abandon  of  grace  with 
which  he  resumed  his  chair,  throwing  it  back  against 
the   door   was    accomplished   once   too    often.     The 


YEEXAL  DUXE  221 

polished  oaken  floor  was  poor  resistance  for  the 
oblique  angle  of  the  hind  legs  of  the  chair,  and  the 
nsher  slid  with  considerable  force  under  the  coffin, 
the  chair  making  a  peculiar  horn-like  noise  as  it 
passed  over  the  bare  floor.  The  feet  of  the  aston- 
ished man  came  in  contact  with  the  coffin,  and  seri- 
ously  jeopardized  the  hitherto  solemn  and  undis- 
puted right  of  place  accorded  the  dead  man.  Jona- 
than said  that  after  order  had  been  restored  he  found 
the  ludicrous  incident  looming  up  before  him  in  such 
grotesque  i^ersistencj  that  it  was  impossible  to  control 
himself.  Even  when  in  the  most  pathetic  parts  of 
the  service  he  had  to  bury  his  face  in  his  handker- 
chief and  give  vent  to  paroxysms  of  laughter,  at  which 
the  grieved  members  of  the  household  would  follow 
suit  in  great  lamentations.  His  efforts  to  repress 
such  unbecoming  levity  fairly  brought  the  tears  to 
his  eyes  and  gave  him  the  appearance  of  being  chief 
mourner.  His  keen  sense  of  humor  and  its  irrele- 
vancy was  no  enviable  experience." 

During  Mr.  Meeds'  stay  with  William  Mr.  Egbert 
made  a  bright  and  pleasant  addition  to  their  com- 
pany a  number  of  times,  and  it  is  not  amiss  to  state 
here  that  this  young  preacher  matured  into  a  great 
divine,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  the  greatest  be- 
loved of  the  "  Old  Dominion." 

At  the  close  of  the  week  Mr.  Meeds  continued  his 
travels  on  the  circuit,  it  having  been  arranged  that 
he  should  stop  with  William  on  his  way  back.  Wil- 
liam was  to  return  ^vith  him  to  N'orth  Carolina,  for 


222  VEKNAL  DUNE 

he  was  anxious  to  make  known  to  Jannette  the  change 
in  his  father;  not  only  their  complete  reconciliation, 
hut  that  his  father  had  indorsed  a  marriage  settle- 
ment that  would  have  satisfied  the  most  exacting 
guardian  of  even  so  desirahle  a  bride,  and  had  selected 
a  diamond  brooch  and  ring  from  among  the  Jameston 
jewels  as  a  present  from  himself. 

The  old  gentleman  insisted  that  William  should 
be  married  and  bring  his  bride  home,  and  fully  re- 
cuperate his  health,  before  resuming  his  ministerial 
duties. 

The  morning  that  the  stage  swung  its  unwieldly 
bulk  from  the  Jameston  gate  upon  William's  de- 
parture for  l!^orth  Carolina,  he  and  Mr.  Meeds  were 
in  too  happy  a  frame  of  mind  to  consider  their  mode 
of  transportation. 

Aunt  Liza,  watching  the  coach  on  its  way  off,  said 
to  Eben  as  he  closed  the  gate :  "  Well,  hit  do  beat  all ! 
and  if  them's  Methody  parsons,  all  I  got  ter  say  is, 
Whut  ail  'em  ?  An'  Mars  Lee,  didn't  he  turn  round 
quick  emuff  ter  make  yer  head  swim  ?  " 

Eben  chuckled. 

"  Mr.  Meeds  is  lively  as  er  cricket,  an'  he'd  turn 
enybody.  I  declare  they  had  such  a  good  time,  such 
talking  and  laughing,  'twas  as  much  as  I  could  do 
ter  keep  my  mouth  straight  when  I  was  waiting  on 
the  table ;  and,  Jim !  he  had  continral  business  in 
the  chany  closet." 

"  Methody  parsons  bein't  as  poky  as  yer  'lowed," 
said  Liza,  a  little  dryly.     "  I  knowed  all  the  time 


VEEIsrAL  DUNE  523 

Mars  William  knowed  whut  he  was  'bout,  and  would 
come  outen  the  big  end  uv  the  horn.  And  hit  'twan't 
Miss  Susan,  arter  all  de  dinner  partyin'  and  sich." 

''  Peers  that  it  'twan't,"  said  Uncle  Eben.  ''  Well, 
even  a  fine  young  gentleman  like  Mars  William  can't 
marry  but  one." 

"  No,"  said  Liza  reflectively,  "  t'others  will  hav' 
ter  look  som'whars  else  now,  and  then  not  find  his 
ekeel." 

"  Youse  er  'spoundin'  Gospil  truth  now,  Liza." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


"  Was  There  Evek  An-othek  Such  Maj^  ? " 

Ak  early  morning  shower  had  sprinkled  the  thirsty 
land  in  the  well-shaded  grove  of  Vernal-Dune.  The 
walks  in  many  places  were  barely  dimpled  by  its  pat- 
ter, but  the  petals  of  the  great  fluffy  roses  lay  in  damp, 
crushed  clusters  about  the  bushes,  adding  their  sweet 
perfume  to  that  peculiar  refreshing,  earthy  odor  that 
pervades  the  atmosphere  after  a  summer  shower. 

Colonel  Chasseur  and  General  Daniel  were  hav- 
ing a  game  of  chess  out  in  the  front  porch,  while  the 
carriage  waited  at  the  gate  to  take  the  children  in 
to  school,  and  was  being  liberally  filled  with  peaches, 
apples,  and  watermelons.  Mary  Shotwell  and  Ann 
Owen  Camdon  passed  through  the  porch.  Louise 
stopped  at  her  father's  chair  and  bending  down,  whis- 
pered something  in  his  ear.  He  ran  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  drew  forth  a  large,  well-filled  silken  purse, 
the  compartments  closed  by  gold  rings,  and  handed 
it  to  the  child.  She,  stooping  to  make  a  support  of 
her  knee,  took  from  it  such  pieces  as  she  liked. 
Dropping  them  into  her  schoolbag,  she  slipped  back 
the  rings  snugly,  and  handing  the  purse  back  to  her 
father,  kissed  him  lightly  on  the  cheek  and  ran  down 

the  walk  to  tha  carriage. 

'224 


VEKISTAL  DU:N^E  225 

The  Colonel,  who  had  not  taken  his  eyes  from  con- 
templating the  chessboard,  continued  to  wait  patiently 
for  his  friend  to  move;  hut,  instead,  he  threw  back 
his  head  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  I'll  swear  if  that  don't  beat  all !  " 

The  Colonel  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  Give  your  purse  to  a  girl  to  help  herself !  " 

Colonel  Chasseur  smiled,  saying,  '^  I  knew  she 
wouldn't  take  any  more  than  she  wanted." 

^^  By  Jiminy !  who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  ? 
Was  there  ever  another  such  man  ?  " 

"  By  the  way,  Colonel,  last  night  after  midnight, 
when  everything  about  the  house  had  got  quiet,  the 
stillness  was  broken  by  a  most  earnest  lamentation  or 
expostulation.  I  went  to  the  window,  and  there, 
kneeling  on  the  front  porch,  was  an  aged  negro,  his 
head  uncovered  and  his  hands  clasped  before  him. 
He  made  quite  a  creditable  supplication.  I  remem- 
ber especially  how  earnestly  he  quavered  out,  ^  Let 
there  be  a  lasting  continerance  of  blessings  and  pros- 
perity for  Mars  Theo  and  his  family.'  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Colonel,  smiling,  "  that  was 
Uncle  Tom.  He  is  a  good  old  fellow.  He  is  afraid 
where  so  much  feasting  is  going  on  there  may  be  some 
sin  mixed  with  it,  so,  Job-like,  he  comes  up  periodic- 
ally to  sanctify  the  atmosphere." 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  Theo  Douglas,  his 
usually  bright  face  clouded,  while  in  an  aggrieved 
tone  he  said,  ''  Grandpa,  make  Uncle  Tom  let  me 
have  a  little  watermelon." 


226  VEE:N"AL  DUl^E 

His  Grandpa  patted  him  affectionately  on  the  back, 
"  That  looks  very  selfish  in  Uncle  Tom,  when  he  has 
got  so  many.'' 

^'  He  is  willing  for  me  to  have  a  big  long  one,  but 
I  don't  want  that  kind." 

"  Ah !  I  see,  Uncle  Tom  knows  that  his  water- 
melons are  not  ripe  when  they  are  little." 

"  But,  Grandpa,  I  don't  care  if  it  isn't  ripe ;  I'm 
not  going  to  cut  it  to  eat." 

"  By  Jiminy,  Theo !  are  you  going  to  swallow  it 
whole  ?  "  asked  the  General  in  mock  surprise.  "  I'd 
like  to  see  that  performance." 

A  half  smile  lighted  the  boy's  handsome  face. 
"  Can't  you  do  nothing  with  a  watermelon  but  eat 
it  ?  "  he  asked. 

'No,  by  Granny !     I  can't." 

•Well,  I'm  going  to  do  something  else  with  one," 
replied  the  boy,  with  so  superior  an  air  that  the  old 
General  laughed  merrily. 

"  Say,   Grandpa,  make  Uncle  Tom  lem-me  have 


(C 


one." 


"  All  right,  my  boy.  General,  light  your  pipe.  I 
will  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.  As  children  can't 
hunt,  they  must  do  something  to  work  off  their  su- 
perfluous vitality."  Off  he  went,  Theo  hopping  and 
skipping  by  his  side.  If  he  let  his  Grandpa  in  the 
secret  of  what  the  melon  was  wanted  for,  he  was  not 
betraved. 

That  night  at  dark  Theo,  Tom,  and  Dick  stole  their 
way  down  to  the  spring,  and  after  depositing  a  curi- 


vee:n'al  djj'ne  227 

ous-looking  and  unhandy  annful,  Theo  bade  Tom  and 
Dick  to  hide  at  a  safe  distance  to  see  how  the  thing 
worked.  'No  matches  being  in  use,  it  was  with  some 
difficulty  that  a  lighted  candle  had  been  smuggled 
from  the  house.  Adjusting  this,  Theo  sought  am- 
bush with  the  others  and,  peeping  out  at  the  trick,  was 
jubilant !  There  it  was !  a  great  round  head  peering 
up  from  behind  the  rocks,  emitting  an  unearthly 
luminosity  from  eyes,  nose,  and  mouth,  where  a  most 
formidable  row  of  teeth  were  ready  to  snap  up  the 
very  first  one  who  came  for  water.  The  thing  soon 
proved  a  "  howling  success.''  Someone  was  coming ! 
They  heard  Susan  say: 

"  Hurry  up,  Margrit,  'kaze  I'm  feard  o'  snakes." 

As  they  turned  into  the  path  facing  the  spring 
there  was  an  unearthly  shriek,  and  both  girls  fled  in 
terror  to  Aunt  Ailsey's  cabin. 

Uncle  Tom  had  a  lot  of  fishing-tackle  he  was 
fixing  by  the  bright  blaze  of  a  torch  stuck  in  the 
ground. 

^'  What  in  the  name  uv  the  Lord  is  ail  you  gals, 
screachin'  dat  way?  They  can  hear  you  clar  ter 
the  great  hus.  Don't  yer  hear  me  tell  you  ter  shut 
up !  " 

"  Daddy,"  said  Susan,  catching  her  breath,  "  you'd 
er  screach,  too,  if  you'd  seed  that  critter  at  der 
spring.     Hit  naterly  breeved  fire." 

"  Go  long  wid  yer  big  tale ;  you  just  don't  wanter 
fetch  dat  water.  You'd  better  go  arter  rit  whilst 
yer  got  Margrit  wid  yer." 


228  YEENAL  DUNE 

"  Fore  God,  Uncle  Tom,  I  ain't  er  gwine  dar 
agin !  " 

"  You  gals  ain't  doing  nothing,  less  yer  showing  yer 
teeth,"  said  Aunt  Ailsey  in  disgust.  "  TU  see  dat 
you  fetch  de  water."  Sticking  a  chunk  of  lightwood 
to  Uncle  Tom's  torch,  she  marched  in  front  down  the 
path,  saying  bravely,  "  Come  on,  Susan.  Whar's 
de  pail  ? " 

^'  Mammy,  I  drapped  hit,  and  you'd  er  drapped  it 
too.  You  won't  git  no  furder  than  de  turning,  if 
hit's  dar  now." 

"If  hit's  dar,"  mimicked  Aunt  Ailsey  contemp- 
tuously. "  You  know  'tain't  dar !  I'm  gre't  mind  ter 
f row  dis  chunk  at  yer,  f er  being  sich  er  fool,  hollowin' 
and  scamperin'  like  two  lightning-struck  colts." 

"  God  o'  Mighty  knows  we  ain't  er-lying,"  de- 
clared Margaret  earnestly. 

The  unusual  disturbance  had  added  to  their  num- 
ber. 

In  the  meantime  Susan's  sudden  scream  had  so 
startled  the  mischievous  scamps  that  they  bumped 
their  heads  together,  and  Dick  was  precipitated  quite 
a  way  down  the  hill  in  line  with  the  advancing  mob. 
The  illuminated  melon  had  a  more  infernal  look  in 
the  distance  than  when  near,  and  Dick  very  sincerely 
said,  "  Hit  looks  like  de  werry  debil." 

But  above  the  various  comments  of  the  party  Aunt 
Ailsey  was  heard  to  say,  "  Debil  or  no  debil,  I'll  put 
out  his  chunk,"  and  hurling  her  torch  at  it,  there 
was  a  soft  kind  of  splutter,  and  all  became  dark. 


VEEIN'AL  DUNE  229 

About  day  next  morning  Uncle  Tom,  passing  the 
spring,  saw  the  shattered  melon  and  piece  of  candle 
and,  chuckling  good-humoredlj  to  himself,  said: 
"  Dat's  how  come  he  wanted  er  round  un.'' 

Some  time  after  this  Colonel  Chasseur  was  in 
Ealeigh,  General  Daniel  had  accepted  a  seat  in  the  gig 
to  return  home  with  him.  It  was  court  week,  and 
there  was  much  small-ware  traffic  going  on,  to  which 
the  gentlemen  paid  no  attention  until  they  came  to  an 
old  cake  woman,  Mrs.  Mahry,  and  to  the  amusement 
of  the  General,  Colonel  Chasseur  stopped  with  a  kind 
word.  "  Well,  Mrs.  Mahry,  how  has  trade  been  to- 
day ? '' 

"  Hardly  as  good  as  common,  sir.  There's  been 
more  stands  than  usual." 

"  That  is  all  right.  I'll  get  a  better  supply  then. 
It  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good,  Mrs.  Mabry." 

"  So  they  say.  Colonel ;  but  this  I  know,  no  ill  wind 
blows  before  you." 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Mahry,  that  is  at  least  a  clever  say- 
mg." 

"It  is  a  true  one,  as  I  can  prove  by  the  Gen- 
eral." 

The  Colonel  had  spread  a  large  bandanna  hand- 
kerchief down  in  the  bottom  of  the  gig,  and  the  old 
lady  emptied  her  basket  of  its  contents.  There  were 
round  cakes,  square  cakes,  and  horse-cakes,  which 
stuck  out  in  rebellious  stiffness  as  the  four  corners  of 
the  bandanna  were  pulled  up  and  tied.  Paying  the 
old  woman  they  drove  on  again,  the  General  saying, 


230  YEEISTAL  DUNE 

with  his  characteristic  humor,  "  By  Granny,  Colonel ! 
Miss  Barbara  ain't  sick,  is  she  ?  " 

At  which  the  Colonel  laughed  heartily.  "  Oh,  no ! 
Miss  Barbara  would  be  highly  insulted  if  these  cakes 
got  any  nearer  than  the  front  gate.  It  pleases  the 
children  to  distribute  them  to  the  little  darkies,  and 
it  gratifies  the  old  lady  to  get  rid  of  her  stock." 

"  Yes,  by  Granny !  I  bet  she  keeps  two  baskets  — 
one  for  the  public,  and  the  other  for  Colonel  Chas- 
seur." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Colonel,  laughing,  "  that  is  en- 
terprise, and  should  be  encouraged." 

When  next  the  cakes  were  seen,  little  Andrew 
McKinnon,  Sarah's  household  treasure,  sat  on  the 
lower  step  of  the  horse-block.  With  an  angelic  ex- 
pression he  was  from  the  depth  of  his  little  blouse 
handing  out  cake  after  cake  to  the  slick,  laughing  lit- 
tle darkies  gathered  around  him,  while  Willie  Doug- 
las stood  on  the  step  above  him,  calling  out  with 
amusing  mimickry,  "  Here's  your  dood  ginger  bed ; 
twenty-fi-cent  apiece,  or  free  for  a  twarter !  " 

The  next  morning  when  the  family  was  gathered  at 
the  breakfast  table,  and  Miss  Barbara  was  superin- 
tending affairs  at  a  side  table,  a  negro  girl  came  from 
the  kitchen  to  say  the  cook  wanted  more  buckwheat. 
"  Mammy's  frying  de  las'  buckwheat  cakes." 

It  happened  that  as  she  elevated  her  voice  to  be 
heard  bv  Miss  Barbara  throu2:h  the  merriment  at  the 
table,  the  laughing  ceased,  and  the  message  was  heard 
by  the  party.     General  Daniel  further  increased  the 


vee:n-al  dune  231 

am-usement  by  exclaiming,  with  ludicrous  consterna- 
tion :  "  Last  buckwheat  cakes !  I'd  rather  hear  the 
sound  of  Gabriel's  trumpet !  " 

As  the  breakfast  party  was  leaving  the  room  Miss 
Barbara  said  to  Colonel  Chasseur,  '^  I  see,  Colonel, 
you  have  snagged  your  sleeve.  Leave  your  coat  off 
and  I  will  dam  it." 

The  Colonel  looked  at  his  arm,  then  said  with  a 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  you.  Miss  Barbara,  but  you  would  really  do  me 
serious  harm  if  you  carried  out  your  kind  intention." 

^'  Me,  Colonel  Chasseur !     How  do  you  harm  ?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  see  it  would  be  my  financial  ruin 
to  appear  in  public  wearing  a  badge  of  such  pre- 
meditated economy." 

The  very  good,  but  intensely  practical  housekeeper 
looked  at  him  seriously,  then  said :  '^  What's  that  got 
to  do  with  darning  your  coat  ?  " 

There  was  a  general  laugh  by  the  group  of  young 
people. 

"  Why,  you  will  have  folks  calling  me  that  darned 
old  bankrupt." 

"  Good  gracious.  Colonel,  I  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing !  " 

"  Neither  must  anyone  else.  Darns  are  much  too 
premeditated  for  me  to  wear  one." 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Barbara,  finally  understanding 
that  the  Colonel  would  not  wear  a  dam,  "  I  wouldn't 
be  as  proud  as  all  that." 

"  Ahj  Miss  Barbara,"  replied  the  Colonel  quizzic- 


232  yEENAL  DUNE 

ally,  "  thou  that  preachest  a  man  shall  not  steal, 
Dost  thou  steal  ?  " 

"  Gracious  knows  I  never  stole  nothing,"  said  the 
good  lady,  somewhat  indignantly. 

"  ISTeither  am  I  proud,"  he  answered,  laughing 
heartily  as  he  walked  off. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

Schoolgirls  —  Some   of   Theie  REMiNiscEi^rcES 

It  was  the  day  after  the  closing  exercises  of  the 
Female  Academy,  and  several  girls  have  met  there, 
some  to  get  forgotten  articles,  others  as  company. 
The  Chasseur  carriage  stopped  for  Mary  Shotwell. 
"  What  are  you  all  doing  in  that  desolate  old  place  ?  " 

^'  Reviewing  the  old  battle-ground.  It  isn't  half 
as  formidable  with  General  Benedict  off  the  field." 

^'  Look  out,"  said  Matilda  Rasier,  who  had  just 
come  from  the  schoolhouse.  "  Here  comes  Susan 
with  her  beau.  Coming  for  some  more  old  books,  I 
reckon." 

Some  of  the  girls  smiled,  but  Louise  leaned  from 
the  carriage  window  as  they  passed,  and  said: 
"  Turner,  I  am  going  to  have  a  few  friends  out  home 
to-night;  you  must  be  sure  to  come,  and  tell  Charles 
we  will  look  for  him,  too." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hat.  "  I  will  do 
so  with  pleasure." 

Turner  Rivers  had  grown  into  a  tall  handsome 

boy.     He  had  long  since  left  the  wheelbarrow  for 

school  and  Judge  Launders'  law  office,  and  Charlie's 

friendship  had  been  of  much  pleasure  and  benefit  to 

the   orphan   boy.     He   and   Susan   Grafton   seemed 

233 


ii 


234  VEEISTAL  DUNE 

greatly  attracted  to  each  other.  As  they  passed  on 
down  the  street,  Mary  said,  "  Brother  Henry  says 
that  Turner  is  going  to  Mississippi.  He  has  an  uncle 
living  out  there." 

He  is  not  going  now/'  Ann  Owen  replied. 
Charlie  said  he  told  him  his  uncle  had  a  large 
family  to  take  care  of;  but  for  the  sake  of  the  kin- 
ship, when  he  got  his  license  to  practice  law,  and 
could  see  his  way  clear,  he  would  settle  there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Matilda,  ^^  he  wants  to  get  away  from 
that  wheelbarrow  business." 

"  The  wheelbarrow  seems  to  give  you  more  trouble 
than  anybody  else,  Tildy,"  said  Louise.  "  If  your 
idea  of  rising  in  the  world  is  to  lose  sight  of  where 
you  sprung  from,  you  had  better  take  a  running  start 
now  if  you  expect  to  get  out  of  sight  of  your  father's 
sun^eying  chain.  It's  a  heap  longer  than  Turner's 
wheelbarrow." 

"  Hit  him  ag'in,  bluejacket,"  said  one,  using  a 
slang  phrase,  which  created  a  merry  laugh. 

"  Every  time  I  say  anything  about  Turner  Elvers," 
said  Tildy,  with  much  asperity,  "  you  all  have  some- 
thing to  say  about  pa.  I'll  have  you  to  know  he's 
as  good  as  anybody,  and  just  as  dependent." 

^^  Independent,  Tildy,"  whispered  her  friend,  pull- 
ing her  sleeve. 

"  Anyway,  it  has  got  a  ^  dent '  at  the  end  of  it," 

said  Tildy,  but  the  laugh  that  followed  was  too  much 

for  her,  and  she  left  the  friends  of  Turner  and  Susan. 

"  It  is  bad  enough  to  be  a  fool,"  Mary  remarked, 


vee:n'al  duite  235 

"but  to  be  a  common  fool  is  insufferable.  Tildy 
ought  to  be  taxed  as  a  nuisance." 

"  Kate,  you  and  Ann  Owen  get  in ;  we  migbt  as 
well  be  together." 

When  seated  in  the  carriage,  Mary  said,  "  I  think 
we  have  more  fun  than  any  girls  in  the  world,  and, 
Louise,  we  owe  lots  of  it  to  you." 

"  I  never  will  forget  the  dancing  school.  Last 
session,  every  Friday  Miss  Benedict  had  to  let  our 
class  out  early,  and,  Louise,  you  went  to  Kobedore's 
shoe  store  just  as  regular  as  Friday  came  and  got  a 
pair  of  black  satin  slippers.  It  got  so  monotonous 
that  Eobedore  would  say  as  soon  as  you  entered  the 
door,  ^  All  right.  Miss  Louise,  the  box  is  at  the  end  of 
the  counter,'  and  you  would  skip  down  there  and  come 
forth  shod  like  a  fairy,  and  could  beat  everybody 
dancing,  even  old  Goniky  himself.  Louise,  what 
became  of  all  the  old  slippers  ? " 

Louise  laughed  merrily. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  thought  to  inquire. 
But  don't  you  think  the  pretty  little  things  did  well 
to  last  a  week  ?  " 

"  You  are  so  light  and  your  feet  so  tiny,  they 
would  not  do  for  me." 

"  Girls,  don't  you  remember  the  time  we  were  com- 
ing from  Judge  Eoewell's,  and  Louise  said,  '  My 
money  is  in  the  washstand  drawer  at  Brother  Wil- 
liam's, but  if  I  find  a  quarter  in  a  horse's  shoe  track 
I  will  stand  treat,'  and,  sure  enough,  just  as  we 
reached  the  branch,  there  right  in  the  edge  of  the 


236  VEENAL  DUNE 

water  where  the  horse  stopped  to  drink  lay  a  bright 
quarter." 

"  Yes/'  said  Mary,  "  and  I  remember  saying  that 
Providence  let  Louise  find  it,  because  it  knew  she 
would  spend  it." 

"  Speaking  of  money  reminds  me,"  said  Louise, 
"  of  the  time  I  went  back  after  the  forgotten  money, 
and  you  girls  kept  walking  slowly  on,  and  finally 
reaching  Pozzini's,  went  in  and  engaged  the  things 
and  had  them  wrapped  up.  In  the  meantime  I  met 
Miss  Benedict,  and  she  turned  me  back,  saying  it  was 
schooltime,  and  I  came  near  being  marked  for  laugh- 
ing at  you  girls,  when  you  came  in  late,  red,  hot, 
and  empty-handed." 

"  Yes,  I  whispered  to  you,  Pozzini  says  he  will 
keep  the  things." 

"  And  Kate  added,  storage  free  of  charge,  and  Miss 
Benedict  beat  a  silence  tattoo  on  the  old  desk." 

"  All  that  seems  years  ago.  I  wonder  if  we  are 
going  to  have  as  much  fun  when  we  grow  up." 

"  I  feel  as  old  as  the  hills,  now,"  said  Ann  Owen. 
"  Uncle  Tom,  stop  at  home ;  I  must  get  out." 

The  carriage  drew  up  to  the  gate  at  Judge  Cam- 
don's.  It  was  a  fine  residence,  setting  back  in  the 
midst  of  a  beautiful  well-shaded  and  decorated  lawn, 
where  marble  statuary  gleamed  through  the  green. 
The  long  veranda,  with  its  row  of  white  columns, 
looked  cool  and  inviting,  and  was  typical  of  a 
Southern  manor. 

"  Good-by!     Don't  fail  to  come  to-night." 


VEEITAL  DUKE  237 

These  little  incidents  in  the  life  of  the  school 
children  are  really  very  simple,  but  the  facts  of  their 
being  true  substantiates  our  previous  assertion  — 
that  the  aristocrats  recognized  worth  wherever  they 
found  it,  and  those  who  were  ambitious  to  rise  were 
encouraged.  There  was  quite  a  difference  in  the 
social  standing  of  Susan  Grafton  and  Turner  Elvers. 
She  was  of  a  most  excellent  and  well-known  family ; 
he  was  a  poor  boy,  and  unknown  except  as  having 
claim  to  a  respectable  birthright. 

At  this  period  a  man  was  called  thoroughbred  when 
he  could  trace  his  pedigree  far  back,  descending  from 
a  class  of  men  well-bom,  well-bred,  well-kept,  and 
well-educated.  Money  was  an  important  factor  in 
solidifying  its  basis,  but  not  the  only  thing  necessary 
to  further  the  thing  desired,  or  else  Tildy  and  her 
money  would  have  been  looked  upon  more  favorably. 
Turner  had  no  money,  but  his  qualities  of  gentleman 
were  so  apparent  that  they  were  accepted  as  inherent, 
and  he  had  but  little  difficulty  in  gaining  the  recog- 
nition that  is  accorded  invariably  to  talent. 

It  is  not  a  part  of  the  scheme  of  this  work  to  fol- 
low further  the  career  of  Turner  Rivers.  We  are 
not  writing  biography,  but  simply  a  picture  of  the 
South  in  "  ye  goode  olde  tyme."  However,  in  the 
passing  of  this  estimable  young  man  from  the  scenes 
here  depicted,  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  state  that  the 
interest  of  Susan  in  Turner  developed  into  a  pure 
love,  which  terminated  in  a  happy  marriage.  Turner 
made  a  grand  success  of  his  chosen  profession,  and 


238  ,  YEEITAL  DUNE 

his  qualities  of  probity  and  honor  gained  him  such 
esteem  that  he  was  eventually  elevated  to  the  bench. 

There  were  fewer  self-made  men  at  this  time,  be- 
cause there  was  less  demand  for  them.  The  aris- 
tocracy considered  they  had  within  themselves  a  bet- 
ter made  article,  a  more  perfect  species,  having 
evolved  from  better  stock,  with  all  of  the  advantages 
that  wealth  and  culture  can  transmit  from  genera- 
tion to  generation. 


CHAPTEE  XXX 

Chajrcoal  Outi^ines  of  Facts 

Ik  the  Chasseur  menage  there  was  now  to  be 
another  wedding,  and  Miss  Barbara  was  looking  after 
things  with  much  interest,  for  Lisbon  —  she  it  was 
who  was  to  be  a  bride  —  was  a  great  favorite. 
Susan  had  carried  the  news  to  her  mammy  some  time 
ago.  "  Lisbon's  cotch  a  beau  —  Mars  Kinnon's  man 
Mark.  I  thought  she  wan't  so  anxious  ter  stay  up 
dar  for  nothing." 

"  Lisbon  has  allers  been  a  mannerly  gal,"  said  Aunt 
Ailsey.  "  De  white  folks  think  ther  ain't  nobody  like 
Lisbon.  If  you  wants  to  be  a  house-gal  you'll  have  to 
be  mannerly.  White  folks  don't  want  no  big- 
mouth,  meddling  nigger  round  dem  nohow.  Mark  is 
mannerly,  or  Mars  Kinnon  would  never  er  took  him 
'bout  wid  him,  and  he  gwine  courting  too.  Hit's 
just  like  Miss  Patsy  to  give  Libson  a  big  wedding." 

"  Mammy,  whar'll  de  table  be  sot  ?  " 

"  In  de  big  double  laundry,  and  Miss  Barbara  is 
er-fixen  an'  er-fixin  more  good  things  ter  eat  than  you 
never  did  see." 

When  the  night  of  the  wedding  came,  an  uninvited 

visitor  arriving  at  Yernal-Dune  would  have  wondered 

if  he  had  been  overlooked  in  the  matter  of  an  invita- 

239 


240  VEENAL  DUNE 

tion  to  some  great  festival,  and  festival  it  was.  The 
"  great  house  "  as  usual  was  dispensing  cheerful  rays 
of  light  from  every  window,  the  laundry  was  deco- 
rated and  illuminated,  and  the  long  tahle  was  not  only 
full  of  "  good  things,  but  sure  an'  had  Misses'  silver 
candlesticks  and  flower  pots  on  hit,  and  the  cakes  was 
natur'ly  piled  up  one  on  top  of  'tur,  clear  outen  sight, 
an'  des  sugared  all  over  slick,  wid  fine  lace  paper  on 
de  edge  of  'em." 

Every  cabin  shone  with  the  red  glare  of  a  liberal 
"  pine  knot  " ;  a  large  clear  space  of  turf,  which  was 
flooded  with  light  from  a  full  moon,  was  sufficient 
to  accommodate  any  number  of  dancers. 

It  has  been  said  that  a  negro  is  happiest  when  eat- 
ing a  watermelon,  but  that  is  passive  enjoyment.  The 
height  of  his  joy  is  reached  in  the  dance.  The  negro's 
love  of  music  and  the  dance  is  inherent.  Its  enliven- 
ing touch  quickens  some  African  current  that  trans- 
ports them  in  spirit  to  scenes  of  revelry  they  have 
never  even  heard  of.  Like  their  dark  blood,  it  is 
transmitted  from  generation  to  generation,  but  civi- 
lization has  partially  divested  it  of  the  ghoulish  in- 
tensity of  dervishes  and  enlivened  it  with  a  ludicrous 
mimickery  of  graceful  abandon.  Their  entire  anat- 
omy is  electrized  in  rhythmic  gesticulation.  It 
sways,  wavers,  and  demi-semi-quavers,  step  after  step, 
gliding,  galloping,  bending,  curtesying,  double-shuf- 
fling, trip-pirouetting,  according  to  the  agility  and 
hilarity  of  the  dancer,  intermixed  with  incessant  slang 
and   laughter,    every   tone   and   movement    ecstatic. 


yEE:N'AL  DUIs^E  241 

Above  all  is  the  inspirited  director,  chanting  the 
figures,  and  thus  the  merrj-go-round  continues  —  no 
care,  no  sorrow,  no  weariness  of  mind  or  body,  happy, 
healthy  slaves. 

The  young  ladies  gave  Lisbon's  dress  the  finishing 
touches,  and,  with  bridal  roses  decorating  her  head 
and,  in  a  very  pretty  white  dress,  Lisbon  felt  that  she 
properly  sustained  the  honor  of  her  Master's  house. 
She  had  said  she  wanted  to  be  married  at  the  "  Gret 
House  "  like  quality  folks,  and  so  all  the  family  and 
their  company  could  be  at  it.  ''  You  know,  Miss 
Sarah,  common  niggers  are  so  unmannered  when 
they  are  off  to  themselves." 

And  here  I  want  to  pay  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
"  Aunt  Lisbon."  She  lived  to  be  free  for  many  years, 
but  the  Emancipation  Proclamation  never  changed 
her  or  her  condition.  Xew  friends  or  new  acquaint- 
ances could  never  influence  her  to  leave  her  master's 
family.  "  I've  got  my  opinion  of  niggers,  and  I  had 
rather  be  dead  than  to  leave  my  white  folks  and  live 
off  with  them,"  she  declared.  Her  white  people  and 
their  friends  were  her  friends  all  through  her  life. 
The  changes  incident  to  time  and  revolution  left  un- 
shaken her  affection  and  fidelity,  and  much  of  my 
knowledge  of  negro  life  at  Yemal-Dune  is  due  to  the 
stories  of  old  times  remembered  with  such  pleasure 
and  so  graphically  told  by  Aunt  Lisbon,  while  she 
coddled  the  youngest  child  in  her  kind  old  arms  and 
kept  "  T'other  childun  quiet."  Hers  were  not  ghost 
stories  or  fairy  tales,  but  the  outpouring  of  happy  and 


243  YERl^AL  DUNE 

comical  memories  of  tiie  "  great  house "  and  the 
cabin. 

The  laws  of  the  State  did  not  require  a  marriage 
license  or  the  church  a  service,  and  this  was  not  un- 
wise. The  civilization  of  the  slaves  was  gradual, 
and  the  fewer  laws  they  had  to  contend  with  the  bet- 
ter it  was  for  them.  They  selected  their  own  com- 
panions, and  the  marriage  bond  was  based  upon  the 
consent  and  recognition  of  the  master ;  that  was  their 
license  and  record.  Eespect  for  the  master  and  self- 
respect  induced  general  harmony.  There  were  fewer 
disturbances  and  less  scandal  then  than  the  law  has 
been  able  to  prevent  since  it  has  made  the  negroes 
amenable  to  it. 

When  Mr.  Jameston  and  Jannette  returned  to 
Vernal-Dune,  bringing  Jim  and  ISTellie,  the  bright 
yellow  girl  had  said  to  Jim : 

"  T  am  free  to  confess  I  never  see  so  many  black 
folks." 

"  We's  respectable  folks,"  Mam  Judy  had  replied. 
"  All  Mars  Theo's  folks  is  quality ;  no  half-breed  nor 
yaller  niggers  here,  'cept  they  as  comes  visiting. 
There  hain't  been  since  my  reckermembrance,  nor  I 
never  heard  tell  of  no  mammy  on  Mars  Theo's  plan- 
tation what  didn't  have  her  proper  husband,  according 
to  Mars  Theo's  notification.  We  is  spectable  black, 
and  don't  aim  to  be  scandlous  yaller  ones." 

"  You  don't  have  ter  be  scandlous  to  be  yaller," 
said  Nellie,  defending  her  color,  and  smiling  coquet- 


VERNAL  DUNE  243 

tisbly  at  Ransom,  who  was  as  tall  and  straight  as  an 
Indian,  and  about  the  same  color. 

"  Annt  Jndj  don't  mean  sich  a  lady  as  jon/'  said 
Ransom  apologetically ;  "  but  most  ginerally  the  yal- 
ler  gals  is  mighty  bigerty  and  do  look  down  on  black 
folks.'' 

^'  Well,  I  don't,"  said  good-natured  Nellie. 
"  And  Aunt  Liza  is  your  color,  and  she  is  quality. 
Hit  ain't  the  color  that  makes  quality,  hit's  yer  white 
folks." 

And  while  I  am  recording  history  I  will  note  that 
Nellie  married  Ransom.  Many  years  after,  when 
she  was  the  mother  of  a  very  comely  family,  she 
turned  white.  Her  health  seemed  good,  but  never- 
theless her  epidermis  underwent  a  transformation ; 
in  spots  the  yellow  became  a  pinkish  white,  and  finally 
her  skin  became  as  that  of  a  fair  white  person. 

I  will  close  this  chapter  with  one  of  Dick's  prac- 
tical jokes  recalled  to  my  mind  by  Nellie's  strange 
metamorphosis. 

General  Daniel  had  just  come  in  from  hunting  and 
stopped  in  the  yard  to  discharge  the  load  of  buckshot 
from  his  gun.  There  was  no  one  in  sight,  so  lifting 
the  heavily  loaded  gun  to  his  shoulder  he  fired  away. 
In  the  garden  near  by  Dick  had  stooped  down  to  ex- 
amine more  closely  the  track  of  some  ^'  varmint,"  and 
just  as  the  gun  went  off  Dick  cleared  the  fence  at  a 
bound  and  as  suddenly  fell  to  the  ground  to  all  ap- 
pearances dead. 


24:4:  VEENAL  DUNE 

"  My  God !  Chasseur !  I  have  killed  Dick !  "  gasped 
tlie  General,  and  the  old  bronzed  soldier  turned  as 
pale  as  possible.  But  before  anyone  could  reach 
Dick  he  jumped  up  with  a  loud  "  Yah !  yah ! ! ''  and 
slapping  his  thighs  to  further  imitate  the  galloping 
of  a  horse,  he  was  soon  out  of  sight.  The  General, 
who  had  never  felt  fear  in  battle  and  had  come  out 
unscarred,  was  now  marked  for  life  by  the  mischief 
of  a  negro  boy.  The  sudden  shock  had  whitened  his 
hair  in  a  moment,  which  "  Father  Time "  had  not 
been  able  to  do  with  all  his  years  of  experience. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
A  BkieiP  Record 

To  give  in  detail  the  daily  life  of  so  large  a  family 
as  that  of  Colonel  Chasseur  would  make  too  great  a 
volume.  So  we  will  but  briefly  chronicle  some 
events,  especially  when  they  are  similar  to  others  al- 
ready described.  We  have  given  samples  of  celebra- 
tions and  entertainments  without  duplicating  any  one. 
So  in  the  matter  of  later  marriages  we  will  say  that 
they  were  celebrated  in  manner  most  agreeable  to  the 
parties  concerned. 

Ada  and  the  successful  young  doctor  were  married. 
Her  exceedingly  gay  spirits  and  brilliant  career  as 
a  belle  did  not  prevent  her  gracing  the  home  circle 
with  so  gentle  a  radiance  that  "  her  children  rise 
up  and  call  her  blessed,  her  husband  also,  and  he 
praiseth  her.''  The  broad  field  for  sympathy  and 
charity  always  opened  before  a  doctor's  wife  was 
patiently  and  kindly  cultivated,  yielding  her  an 
abundant  harvest  of  grateful  proteges. 

William  married  the  handsome  Ann  Kerba.  He 
became  a  prominent  physician,  and  the  proud  father 
of  two  daughters.  Mary  was  a  thorough  little  aristo- 
crat, possessing  the  combined  traits  of  a  noble  father 

245 


246  YEEE^AL  DUNE 

and  an  elegant,  high-toned  mother.  Even  as  a  child 
her  manner  was  such  as  to  attract  unusual  attention. 
Martha  was  of  a  different  style,  bright,  pretty,  and 
petite.  She  relied  upon  the  indulgences  of  others 
for  her  happiness,  and  her  gentle,  winning  ways 
won  the  admiration  that  Mary's  patrician  airs  de- 
manded. 

The  gentle  Jannette  has  recently  cast  hor  lot  with 
the  talented  young  divine,  and  he  has  had  the  happi- 
ness of  taking  her  to  his  dear  ancestral  home,  and 
been  much  gratified  by  the  admiration  and  affection 
that  his  grand  old  father  has  for  his  daughter-in-law. 

Aunt  Liza  said  to  Eben  in  confidence :  "  'No  wonder 
Mars  William  ruther  have  that  sweet,  little  blue- 
eyed  lady  than  Miss  Susan  snapping  her  black  eyes 
contineral.  I  knowed  all  de  time  Mars  William 
knowed  what  he  was  'bout." 

The  children,  Louise  and  Eugenia,  are  nearing 
womanhood,  but  they  have  not  let  the  pleasures  of  a 
luxurious  life  cancel  its  duties.  They  are  not  only 
generous  to  their  friends  and  liberal  to  the  poor,  but 
their  education  and  associations  have,  even  in  their 
young  maidenhood,  crowned  them  with  such  graces 
of  heart  and  experience  that  demands  upon  their 
sympathy  and  assistance  in  the  sick-room  have  be- 
come importunate,  and  their  friends  and  even  the 
doctors  have  found  it  necessary  to  expostulate  with 
them. 

Louise  was  bright  and  thoughtful,  and  had  many 


VEENAL  DUNE  247 

little  winning  ways,  especially  in  her  associations  with, 
old  people  and  children.  She  always  thought  of  the 
right  thing  to  do  for  their  comfort  or  pleasure,  and 
her  dear  little  hands  were  always  ready  to  serve  them. 
She  never  waited  for  any  one  else  to  perform  the 
little  acts  of  politeness  or  kindness  when  occasion  pre- 
sented. There  are  some  people  who  hold  their  re- 
sources in  reserve.  They  will  act  graciously  when 
requested,  but  will  ignore  the  slightest  service  when 
possible.  'Not  so  with  Louise.  She  was  always  help- 
ful at  the  right  time  and  place,  as  it  opened  before 
her.  The  gentle  beauty  of  her  young  life,  cheering 
all  in  her  pathway,  and  the  purity  and  goodness  of 
heart  increasingly  showed  its  rich  depths  as  its  sensi- 
tive petals  unfolded  through  its  humane  warmth. 

Ann  Owen  Camdon,  her  gifted  friend,  has  painted 
an  exquisite  "  watch  paper."  It  is  white  rice  paper, 
the  edges  daintily  crenated.  It  is  lined  with  deli- 
cate pink.  A  lovely  wreath  of  heartease  inclose  the 
words  "  Forever  thine."  This  she  has  placed  in 
Louise's  watch,  to  remain  as  a  souvenir  of  her  affec- 
tion, until  the  momentous  time  and  successful  wooer 
comes,  when  it  was  to  be  transferred  to  his  watch  by 
way  of  graceful  acceptance. 

Dear,  beautiful  little  souvenir !  I  take  you  in  my 
hand  tenderly,  reverently.  Time  has  stilled  the 
hearts  of  those  between  whom  you  passed  as  talisman 
or  prophet.  "  Forever  thine  "  never  were  words  im- 
bued with  more  tender  sentiment  or  perfect  faithful- 
ness.    You  represent  to  me  all  that  is  most  sacred 


248  yEElSTAL  DUNE 

in  the  marriage  bond,  all  that  is  most  tenderly  beau- 
tiful in  the  married  life,  all  that  is  most  pure  and 
faithful  in  the  human  heart.  You  pass  beyond  the 
finite  —  "  Until  death  do  us  part "  into  the  infinite 
''  Forever  thine." 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
The  Cup  op  thei  Holy  Grail. 

"What  is  it? 

The  Phantom  of  a  cup  that  comes  and  goes  ?  " 

The  cup,  the  cup  itself,  from  which 

Our  Lord 

Drunk  at  the  last  Sad  Supper  with 

His  Own, 

.  .  .  and  if  a  man 

Could  touch  or  see  it,  he  was  healed 

At  once 

By  faith  of  all  his  ills. 

—  Tennyson. 

EuGEiNrA,  the  youngest  and  most  delicate  of  the 
Chasseur  children,  had  always  been  cherished  by 
family  and  friends  with  every  indulgence  that  love 
and  devotion  could  prompt  unlimited  means,  but  this 
had  not  spoiled  a  cheerful,  unselfish  disposition,  and 
as  far  as  her  health  and  family  would  permit  she  took 
an  active  part  in  "  good  works." 

There  was  a  most  pleasant  friendship  existing  be- 
tween her  father's  family  and  that  of  Mr.  Dyke  Lin- 
don.  His  two  daughters,  Mary  and  Lizzie,  who  had 
been  too  young  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  Yemal- 
Dane  gayeties,  were  growing  up  into  pretty,  intelli- 
gent and  accomplished  girls,  and  a  firm  friendship 
existed,  which  eventually  drew  later  generations  into 

the    strength    of    "  family   ties."     They    were    also 

249 


250  VEEKAL  DUNE 

young  Christians  and  -unwilling  to  fritter  away  all 
of  their  time  in  selfish  pleasures.  The  young  people 
of  the  two  families  often  shared  a  solemn  vigil  by 
the  bedside  of  the  suffering.  It  was  during  one  of 
these  occasions  that  a  most  extraordinary  event  oc- 
curred, the  mystery  of  which  has  never  yet  been 
solved.  It  is  not  related  here  simply  to  introduce  the 
weirdness  of  the  supernatural  into  a  plain  little  story, 
but  as  part  of  my  conscientious  faithfulness  in  the 
portrayal  of  characters  and  the  part  they  play. 

Eugenia  and  Mary  had  agreed  to  spend  the  night 
at  the  home  of  the  Methodist  minister,  Mr.  Langdon, 
whose  child  was  very  ill.  It  was  not  expected  to  live. 
Knowing  how  perfectly  trustworthy  the  young  la- 
dies were,  the  sadly  afflicted  and  exhausted  parents 
were  persuaded  to  retire  to  an  adjoining  room  to  rest. 
The  experienced  eyes  of  the  gentle  young  nurses  saw 
that  the  little  one's  life  was  at  a  verv  low  ebb.  It 
was  a  dark,  dreary  night,  rendered  doubly  so  by  the 
oppressive  stillness  of  the  street,  the  house,  the  sick 
chamber,  the  tiny  cradle  with  its  passive  little  suf- 
ferer ;  to  sit  in  silence,  one  on  each  side  of  the  dying 
babe  and  anxiously  watch  with  faint  hope  for  its 
revival,  and  in  sorrow  for  the  fatal  change  that  must 
awaken  the  mother  to  deeper  despair  than  she  had 
found  even  in  her  sorrow-laden  dreams ;  to  renew  the 
candle,  to  snuff  it ;  to  moist  the  pale  lips ;  to  touch  the 
frail  little  wrists  where  the  life  current  seemed  to 
pause  as  passive  as  a  fine  silken  thread ;  to  bend  down 
the  anxious  ear  to  meet  any  sound  of  life  too  faint 


VERNAL  DUNE  251 

to  rise.  In  the  midst  of  these  responsible  ministra- 
tions they  both  turned  suddenly,  attracted  by  some- 
thing within  range  of  their  vision.  At  the  head  of 
the  cradle  a  "  cup  "  descended.  It  was  not  presented 
by  human  hands ;  it  did  not  fall ;  it  came  slowly  and 
evenly  down,  and  as  it  touched  the  floor  it  settled  it- 
self in  a  little  circular  movement.  Oh,  no !  they  had 
not  slept.  There  was  the  cup !  With  white,  awed 
faces  and  trembling  fingers  they  took  it  up ;  within 
was  a  teaspoonful  of  dark  red  mixture.  '^  The  cup 
of  the  Holy  Grail,"  said  Eugenia  reverently,  "  Let's 
awaken  Mr.  Langdon." 

"When  they  had  made  known  to  the  parents  of  the 
child  the  singular  circumstances  under  which  the  cup 
had  appeared,  it  created  much  speculation ;  each  serv- 
ant was  interviewed,  every  neighbor.  Xo  similar 
cup  could  be  found  anywhere.  However,  the  con- 
tents were  not  given  to  the  child,  that  died  that  night. 
I  can  give  no  explanation  of  so  strange  an  occurrence, 
but  simply  give  the  incident  without  exaggeration. 
Perhaps  it  was  not  intended  as  a  medicine  to  be 
given  to  the  dying  infant  ''  The  cup  of  the  Holy 
Grail "  appeared  in  sympathy  to  the  frail  young 
nurse,  when  as  a  ministering  angel  she  was  in  touch 
with  heavenly  things,  and  through  its  supernatural 
power  was  meant  as  a  registered  promise,  that  she  too 
should  be  healed  by  faith  of  all  ills.  She  passed  into 
the  beautiful  world  where  there  is  no  sickness  or  sor- 
row long  before  lines  of  age  had  marked  her  sweet 
face  or  its  silver  threaded  her  rich  brown  hair. 


EPILOGUE 

As  tlie  purpose  of  this  story  is  to  fairly  represent 
the  horae  life  of  the  Southern  people  at  a  period  too 
remote  to  attract  news  gatherers,  and  to  preserve  as 
worthy  of  historical  record  much  that  is  traditional 
and  of  pastoral  simplicity,  we  confine  ourselves  to 
that  era  of  peace  and  plenty ;  and  as  it  is  not  a  biog- 
raphy or  romance,  we  will  close  without  a  dramatic 
peroration. 

However  small  the  stage  or  awkwardly  the  manager 
has  shifted  the  scenes,  know  ye  who  are  interested  in 
the  cast  of  characters,  that  all  were  to  the  manner 
horn,  their  impersonation  realistic,  the  play  historical. 


